The Way to a Girl's Heart story
by Aownr1669
Summary: Expanded a one-shot into a story.  Finding her changed his life.  Rated M for language and situations.
1. The Find

Well, thanks for the reviews of my first one-shot. I'm going to get brave and try regular action...not the "implied" kind from the one-shot, which may become it's own chapter if this goes well...may save the real smut for when I'm really feeling bold! Thanks to all of you who reviewed and the nice things you said!

Warning: Rated M because Daryl Dixon talks like I do...potty mouth!

_**Chapter One: The Find**_

Rick and Daryl stayed close to the buildings, their backs flat against the walls with weapons ready, searching for any signs of life…or death. The living could be just as dangerous as the dead now, given the state of deterioration that had become our civilized world in the past few months. The dead were always glad to see you-they were hungry, driven only by their primal desire for food. The living wouldn't necessarily be glad to see you at all-especially when you were in their town, scavenging for anything edible or useful. The group had to be careful…and quiet. They were in the downtown area of a small town on the outskirts of Atlanta. It was one of those towns that used to be someone's hometown, but was now barely an exit on the interstate-a collection of weathered buildings around a small park. Local bank, a gas station, insurance agency, a couple clothing stores, too small for even a Wal-Mart. The jewelry and gift store they were passing had been looted, it's window shattered, the glass on the sidewalk crunched underfoot. Dumb fucks, Daryl thought to himself, gold n' diamonds ain't worth shit no more. Nothin' is.

The building next door was apparently the town's city hall, police department and jail, all rolled into one convenient location. At least that's what the sign creaking overhead had once said. Now it was hanging precariously by one of the two chains that had previously held it to the iron rod extending out over the sidewalk. The double glass doors at the front entrance had been boarded up with heavy plywood and there was a heavy chain and massive padlock around the door handles. Immediately to the left, there was a six-foot chain link fence surrounding an overgrown grassy area from the end of the building, around the corner and out of sight.

Daryl motioned to Rick that he was going in, or rather, up. Rick shook his head and motioned that he was going to cross the street to one of the other shops that had easier access to the inside, thanks to the post-outbreak looting that had been so rampant. Shane and T-Dog were busy scavenging through what was left of a gas station at the end of the next block, their pick-up trucks parked in the middle of the street between the two ends of the "business district." The group was on edge and nervous. T-here was a distinct lack of walkers on the street and in the buildings they had checked thus far. That meant one of two things-either they were massed somewhere, like the did occasionally, or there were survivors…with weapons enough to clear the streets.

Daryl slung his crossbow around to his back and climbed the fence easily. He dropped down with a quiet thud and listened, motionless, for shuffling, moaning, any walker noises. Nothing. He kept low and still through the high grass and looked cautiously around the corner. He worked his way down the cinder-block building to a metal door at the end of a sidewalk that lead the other way to a large gate, also chained and padlocked from the outside. It was a parking area for the police vehicles. Daryl reached for the door and slowly, imperceptible turned the knob. It turned easily. He held his breath as he opened it, standing to one side, bolt ready in his raised crossbow.

The boarded-up windows let in little light, but he could immediately tell he was in the law enforcement area of the building. It was trashed-office furniture and papers tossed about, beer cans, empty food boxes, the acrid smell of cheap cigars. Pigs, he thought to himself. Not even Merle is this bad. He crept in, inch by inch, weapon drawn, stopping, listening for any signs of life from within. Nothing. He rounded a corner and walked into an open area which housed the holding cells. Old piss, more cigar, dank air. The paint was peeling in places on the bars, their doors standing wide open, except for one. Darryl looked at the one cell that was closed and blinked twice. Fuck me, he thought. That's a girl!

The small figure laid motionless on the bottom bunk of the cell, curled on her side in a fetal position facing the door. If she was as small as she could be, maybe they'd forget she was there when they returned. Through her one good eye, she could make out a figure in the shadows, moving slowly towards the cell. Please, God, let it be a walker, please. She closed her eyes. The figure moved steadily closer to the cell door now, clearly no walker but still a predator. "Hey" the figure whispered. It was a man.

She opened her eye only halfway-that's all she had strength for at this point. It had been days since she'd eaten anything. She'd lost a lot of blood and the abuse she'd received had taken its toll. She looked up at when she realized he was standing right outside the cell door. He was tall and thin with heavily muscled arms and he was carrying the biggest cross-bow she'd ever seen. His hair looked dark and shaggy, his clothing stained and dirty, like he'd been hunting for days without coming in from the field. His shirt had the sleeves ripped out at the shoulders and his camo pants hung from a leather belt at his hips. So did a very large hunting knife.

She looked into his eyes. "Help…me." she mouthed slowly. She wanted to scream, to sit up, to do something let him know she was alive. Nothing worked anymore-not her voice, not her arms, certainly not her legs. She closed her eye again, believing that he hadn't seen and would think she was a walker and shoot her though the bars, a large part of her praying that the nightmare would end. Instead, she heard the low voice again.

"Hey. Girl." He said softly. "Keys. Where'sa keys?" Daryl instantly recognized the trouble the girl was in. There was blood on the bare mattress. Lots of blood. Her long, dark hair was matted and tangled. The half of her face that was visible was painful to look at-a horrible purplish-blue shadow surrounded her eye completely, which was almost swollen shut. There were scratches and cuts on her cheek and jaw. Ugly finger-shaped bruises circled around her neck. He could see her struggle with each breath. She raised her hand about three inches off the filthy mattress and pointed in his direction, her eyes moving slowly, deliberately to his left. There in the lock of the empty cell next to hers, was a large set of keys on an old-fashioned iron ring.

It took Daryl three tries. When he heard the metallic clank of the lock release, with the third key he tried, he tore open the door and took two giant strides into the cell to the bunk. "Fuck ME," he whispered when he looked down at the heap on the bed. "Can you walk?" Her legs were covered with bruises of every shape and size, in various stages of healing. There were wounds too. Knife cuts. On the back of one of her thighs, he could make out what appeared to be bite marks-human teeth-in the flesh of her leg.

"Can you WALK?" he said urgently. She looked at him and shook her head slightly. "Ok, then I have to do this." He grabbed her arms and hoisted her over his shoulder, adjusting the crossbow to the other side. The pain in her ribs shot through her like nothing she'd felt before, each hurried step he took was worse than the other. She weighed less than the last buck he'd bagged, he figured, even dead weight as she was. Before he got to the outer door and into the sunlight, she gurgled and went limp. "Fuck" he swore, with the realization that she might have just died while he was carrying her over his shoulder. "Don't do this now, Girl!" he said, "Don't you do this!"

He reached the fence on the street-side and called for Rick. "Get over to the side. Shoot the lock." he yelled. "I can't climb with her and she's about gone." Rick rubbed his eyes and what he was seeing and looked over his shoulder. He sprinted down the fence towards the locked gate at the back. Just then three walkers came from the alley behind the building. "Daryl, man, we gotta go. There are more coming, Shane just spotted a whole bunch of them at the end of the next block over and they're moving fast." Rick drew his service revolver and fired at the lock. It glanced off, barely scratching the metal. He fired again and the lock broke apart. He clawed at the chain as the three walkers advanced. He whirled around, slammed the handgun into it's holster and lifted his shotgun. Two shots-two of the walkers went down in a spray of brains and gore. The third kept advancing, spurred on by the noise.

"Down!" Daryl yelled as he let the girl slip down his back a bit and took his hands off her. He drew the bow, still cocked and as Rick dropped, he fired a bolt into the third walker. "Motherfucker!" Daryl yelled. Rick stood up quickly and pulled the arrow out of the walker's head and handed it to Daryl. "Trucks. Run. Now!" he yelled. Daryl swing the bow around his shoulder, balanced the girl on his shoulder and they both took off running. For a minute, Daryl forgot that he was carrying something other than his crossbow. He reached his truck about half a block before the walkers were upon them. Rick and Shane jumped into the red pickup that T-Dog had already managed to start. "What the fuck?" he heard Shane yell at Rick as he looked over his shoulder to Daryl.

Daryl threw open the door of the passenger side of his battered Dodge and half-chucked her limp body into the seat. Landing half bent, he pushed her legs in and slammed the door closed. He lept around the front of the truck, threw his crossbow in on top of her and pulled the door shut as the walkers were within 10 feet of the bed of the truck. He cranked the key in the ignition and it started with a lurch, tossing the girl's body back against the back of the seat. As he pushed the gas pedal to the floor and it lurched forward, he showering the bloated and rotting faces of the walkers with gravel and glass from the street. She moaned and rolled forward towards the floor board, the bow sliding off from on top of her. Daryl caught her shoulder in time to keep her from hitting the floor and pulled her back to the seat.

At that point, Daryl realized that she wasn't dead, but had probably had passed out from the pain. In the panic to get her into the truck and get away from the advancing walkers, her shirt had slid up, exposing her ribcage. It was black with half a dozen large crescent-shaped bruises up and down her side. Fucking boot marks-he'd seen those on his own body after his sum'bitch drunk-ass Daddy had give him a once-over in a tequila-fueled rage. Steel-toed, from the looks of how dark and angry the bruises were. "I'm sorry. I'm s' sorry." he said out loud, looking down at her. "Hang in there. Everythin's gonna be alright. We'll get ya fixed up. You're gonna be alright." Her arm slid forward and off the bench seat as he accidentally hit a bump and it jostled the whole truck. This time she cried out as the pain washed over her. Daryl drove like a madman back to camp.


	2. Awake

**Chapter 2 Awake**

I don't own any of the Walking Dead characters...but they sure are fun to play with- until I can get my Daryl Dixon action figure...

The pain in her side was excruciating, a relentless throbbing that had only one speed. Constant. Every breath she took in added a new wave to the throbbing, no matter how slow, how shallow, how gently she tried to inhale. Everything on her hurt- her knees ached, her head hurt, every fiber in every muscle felt like it had been stretched beyond it's limits and let go. Her bones ached, her throat was so sore it was difficult to swallow. The skin on her cheek felt tight, like an over-inflated balloon. The stabbing pain in her stomach was hunger, she recognized that much. She took a tiny breath and came to the realization that she was not in the cell anymore. That realization came in the form of a smell- or lack of one to be more exact. There was no smell of cigar wafting in the air. Lloyd was not around.

She heard muffled arguing and could make out a woman's voice and at least two men. They were talking low but she could make out most of the heated conversation.

"All I'm saying is that we need to be careful." a man's voice said. "We don't know who she is or what she is, she's probably infected ..."

"I can tell you what she's BEEN through, Shane, she's been tortured and beaten and I don't care who she is, we've got to help her." A woman's voice.

"Lori, be serious, she's been bitten. You said she had bite marks on her. You know what's going to happen. We need to take care of this now before she wakes up..." the first man stopped in the middle of his sentence

"You fuckin' go near her and I'll kill ya myself, asshole. Swear, I'll put a bullet in ya' n' feed ya' to the walkers." A second man's voice growled menacingly.

Another man's voice spoke louder, over the others. "Now calm down everybody and let's have a rational discussion about this. Shane... Daryl... enough. Nobody's going to take care of anything. Let's let Andrea get her cleaned up and assess the situation and then we can go from there."

She took another small breath and made a squeaking sound in the back of her throat from the pain. Through her closed eyes she could see light and she could hear a bird singing off in the distance. She could hear water being poured and someone near her. Their presence was comforting. "Hey, are you still with us?" the female voice asked softly. "You're ok. You're safe. We're going to get you all patched up and you'll be fine. You're going to be just fine." A cool sensation swiped over her forehead and down the side of her face. The movement was gentle and slow, soothing. "You just relax and rest and when I get you cleaned up and these cuts fixed, I'll get you something to eat."

For the next few minutes, the voice continued to speak, soft and low, reassuring her as she lolled in and out of consciousness. "I'm going to step outside the tent now for more water," it said, "you'll be safe, I'll be right back and we'll wash up your legs and your feet..." She heard a long, loud zip and the quiet woman's voice spoke to someone outside.

"I need more clean water. She's in bad shape- I know those ribs are cracked and she's in so much pain she's in and out. She's not saying anything and she's not opening her eyes but she's not fighting me to get her cleaned up so I think somewhere in there she realizes she's safe."

"I wanna see her." the angry man's voice said.

"Daryl, I don't think that's a good idea. I've still got a lot of cleaning up to do and I've got her out of most of her clothes. You need to wait. Let me finish up and you can go in and see if she's awake and can eat or drink something."

"Motherfuckers." the man's voice was pinched and low. "I find them they're dead." he snarled.

"Daryl, you don't even know her. You don't have a dog in this fight."

"Don' matter. You don' do that ta a' woman. No woman deserves that." he said softly.

Andrea finished putting on baggy shorts carefully on the girl and stood up to look at her work. Much better, she thought to herself. She had spent the better part of the afternoon washing, bandaging, and dressing the woman on the folding cot. She stood to dump the last of the wash water out of the tin basin she'd been using. Unzipping the tent with one hand, she stepped out and directly in front of a pacing Daryl Dixon. He had barely moved from in front of the tent the whole time Andrea was inside . She looked towards the campfire that Lori and Rick were sitting next to. The light was starting to fade. "Here. Dump this" she said firmly, half shoving the basin of water towards him, it's contents sloshing slightly.

"Do it yerself. I wanna see her. Now." He sidestepped Andrea and moved quickly into the tent.

Daryl stared down at the figure on the cot, a thin blanket covering pulled over her legs. Andrea had washed the dried blood and dirt from her and attempted to wash her long, dark hair. Her face was swollen, she had a massive black eye, her neck was bruised and purple, all up and down her arms were bruises and cuts, scrapes and abrasions. He sat down next to the cot and half-leaning, half-hugging the crossbow and with the exception of 6 hours of patrol every night, he didn't move for four days, not even to hunt.

She awoke with a jolt. One of those falling down a hole dreams where you're about to hit the bottom and it instantly you're wide awake. She opened her eyes. It was light out, morning, she guessed. It was raining gently and she could hear soft drops hitting the sides of the tent. She turned her head slowly and saw a figure sitting beside her. It was a man. The same man who had unlocked the cell. Crossbow. He was looking her with a huge smile on his rugged face. He needed a shave- the goatee and mustache were only slightly more dense that the stubble on the rest of his cheeks and jaw. His hair was disheveled and his clothes were wrinkled and awry. He looked, as grandma would say, "like he'd been rode hard and put away wet." but never had any man looked so good to her in her entire life.

He leaned closer towards the cot and stroked her forehead with his rough fingers. "Hey," he said softly, "you got green eyes. I wuz' wond'drin'."

She looked straight into his blue eyes and tried to smile. Her face was numb; she couldn't tell if she was smiling a little or a lot, or if at all. She wanted to speak but she knew nothing was going to come out. She wanted to say thank-you. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she closed her eyes as she realized she was safe.


	3. Rest and Realizations

**Chapter 3: Rest and Realizations**

Andrea moved as quietly around the tent as she could. It was mid-morning and the girl on the cot was stirring. She opened her eyes and looked around. Tent. Ok. Crossbow. Gone. Damn. Blonde. Hovering. She tried to sit up and her ribs told her it wasn't a good idea. Andrea moved swiftly to the side of the cot and kneeled.

"Hey there. You're awake. How are you feeling?"

She attempted to speak and the only thing that would come out was a whisper. "Rough."

"Well, you look pretty rough, that's for sure. We get something into your stomach, we'll get you some painkillers and you'll start to feel better. But you gotta 'eat and drink first. You've been out for four days, Sweetie. When did you eat last?"

"I...don't remember. Been a while, I guess." She looked around the tent-the flaps were down and the door was shut but the air that surrounded her was cool and fresh. "Where am I?"

"You're at a campground, outside Atlanta. There are a group of us who've been sticking together, helping each other out," the blonde explained. She was pretty, it was hard to guess her age. She looked tired and there was a sadness to her eyes. "My name's Andrea. I'm the one that helped get you cleaned up- do you remember that?"

"Yes. Thank you. That was very kind of you." Her voice a bit stronger now.

Andrea took a pillow from the foot of the cot and said, "Do you think you can sit up at all?"

"Maybe, but my ribs hurt like hell." Andrea helped her lift her head and shoulders and placed a pillow under, helping to elevate her. "Ok, try to sip this- it's just water. Sweetie?" she asked, "Do you remember your name?"

"Hallie. Hallie Jane...McAllister." she said grimacing. She didn't know what hurt more- sitting up or the water hitting her empty stomach. Both caused her to clench her teeth. "SON of a BITCH!" she hissed.

"Well, Hallie Jane McAllister, it is very nice to meet you." Andrea said, ignoring the language and patting her hand. "Will you be ok if leave you for a second and I go warm you up some soup? We have a couple cans of nice chicken and noodle we put back for an emergency, like one of the kids getting sick. I think that'd be pretty easy on your stomach. Sound ok?"

"Sure." gritting her teeth. A-Andrea?" she looked up as Andrea was walking towards the tent door. "Who was that guy?"

"Who, Daryl? Daryl Dixon. He's not here right now. He's out hunting, hopefully he'll get lucky and we can have a decent meal. If not, I'm sure there will be plenty of squirrel!" Andrea wrinkled her nose and sighed. "We told him he had to take a bath after he came back, too. He sat outside this tent the whole time you were out. He was getting, well, pretty ripe." she said, fanning her nose. "I'll be right back, Hon."

Hallie leaned back into the pillow, closing her eyes. Tears rolled down her face. At this point it could have been the pain in her ribs or sheer relief, she wasn't sure. She just knew it was good to cry.

Andrea came back carrying a steaming cup of soup and more water...and two white pills, She handed the soup to Hallie and said "Start with this. You need to eat."

Hallie tried to eat slowly. She sipped at the broth and managed to eat a couple of the limp noodles. Andrea seemed to delight in every sip that Hallie took in. When she stopped eating, Andrea took the cup and handed Hallie the water and placed the two pills in her palm. "Now, these are pretty strong but you look like you could use them. They'll help you sleep and they'll take care of a lot of that pain." Hallie took them begrudgingly. She didn't want to be beholden to anyone and these people were sharing their food and their medicine with her. She had nothing to offer them in return and she was damned uncomfortable as to how she was going to repay the debt. She swallowed them just as there was a male voice outside the tent door.

"Knock knock. Everybody decent? I'm coming in."

"Hey. Rick." Andrea said, turning to the tall, thin man who had just entered the tent. "Look who's awake and sitting up- and she just ate too."

Hallie looked at the man who kneeled beside the cot. He was wearing a police uniform-brown and tan. Not just a police officer, the patch on his shoulder said sheriff's department.

"Rick, this is Hallie Jane. Hallie Jane McAllister."

"Well, it is my pleasure to meet you Hallie Jane McAllister." he smiled. He was handsome, with thick dark hair and a trustworthy face. He looked tired as well. "I'm Rick Grimes. We're all sure glad to see you awake."

He proceeded to chat. There was no other description for it. Rick was trying to chat. He was attempting to build a rapport, that much was clear. Trying to build her trust and get her to open up. He talked the individuals in the group, his wife Lori and their son Carl, Andrea, Dale, Carol and Sophia, T-Dog, Shane, Glenn and Daryl. He told her about how the group got together, how he'd been in the hospital when things all went down, about finding Lori again, the group being overrun at their old camp at a quarry, what they had been through at the CDC, and that they were looking for a place to stay that was more permanent, especially with winter approaching.

"Rick here is the unofficial leader of our little group, if you haven't guessed!" Andrea interjected.

Rick looked down and an embarassed smile crossed his face. "Well, I don't know about that," he laughed, "I just do what I can to keep everybody together and safe." His face turned serious. "Miss McAllister, I need to ask you some questions if you feel up to it."

"Yup." Hallie said weakly, taking a sip of water and looking away from him. "You want to know what happened to me."

"Yes. You're in a hell of a mess. Obviously somebody hurt you and from what Daryl said, you were being held against your will. I need to know who did this and why."

Unthinking, Hallie tried to draw a deep breath to steel herself. Oh, fuck, she thought as the pain in her side briefly overpowered the dullness and haze that was the Vicodin kicking in. She really did NOT want to go through this. She did not want to think about it. She sure as hell did not want to tell a complete stranger about it .

"No." she said quietly, looking down at her water. "I don't want to talk about it. Not now. Not with you or anybody else." At that moment, Hallie's whole body downshifted. It was in a word, nice.

"Ok, I respect that." he continued. "But we have to know about the person or persons that did this. If they're out there, they could be a danger to us all. You could be protecting us and yourself in the long run."

"I know." she said, her suddenly head swimming. "Not now." she said slowly. "I'm just...Holy shit," she giggled, "I think this stuff is working."

"Ok, then," Rick said gently, squeezing her hand, "I think I'll be off then. You get some rest. We'll talk later." He turned to Andrea with raised eyebrows, giving her a nod as he exited the tent flap.

"Andrea?" Hallie said, closing her eyes. "Uhm, I think I need to...to...whoa. It's been a long time since I've felt like this. I think the bed is spinning a bit."

"Hallie you just keep your eyes closed. You need to rest some. If you wake up, just yell. We'll be right outside." Andrea pulled another blanket over Hallie and smoothed her hair out of her eyes. Hallie didn't hear Andrea's last words. She was fast asleep.

When Hallie woke up, it was dark in the tent. There were sounds of people talking and laughter outside the tent. A small lantern was lit on a table near the cot. She could hear Rick's voice. Another male. Women giggling. Andrea's voice saying "I'm going to go check on her." In a second, the zip of the tent being opened.

"You're missing dinner!" Andrea was smiling. "We're eating good tonight- Daryl got a deer. Do you think you could eat some?"

"Thanks, I, no, I don't think so." Hallie's head was heavy, thick. "Not yet."

Andrea continued to try to get her to eat something and Hallie acquiesced to some canned fruit. "You need to keep up your strength so you can get better. There are people anxious to meet you...one especially." she said, trying to be cryptic.

Hallie looked at her with a puzzled look, furrowing her brow. "Andrea, I don't want to see anybody right now. I just want to be left alone for a while." she said. "Don't get me wrong- I am so grateful for everything, really, I just don't think I'm ready. Especially when I look this bad." she said, raising her hand to her cheek. "Can you explain it to everyone? I owe you all so much. I don't want to make anyone angry. I just...I'm not..."

"Ready. You're not ready." Andrea said. "Hallie, it's ok. Nobody's going to be angry. Everyone will understand."

For the next few days, Hallie slept off and on. Andrea hounded her to drink water and tea and to eat more-always to eat. Hallie gradually started to use the Vicodin less and less, and feel like her old self more and more. The pain in her ribs eased slightly and moving became less difficult. The swelling subsided, scratches and wounds began to heal and rainbow of old and new bruises faded from purple to blue, green to yellow, disappearing more each day. She found herself smiling and, on occasion, laughing out loud as Andrea did her best to help Hallie get to know each person in camp through sharing stories and details about them. Everyone had respected her wishes and stayed away, letting Hallie stay hidden beyond the tent flaps.

"Andrea" Hallie asked after breakfast one morning. "I think I've had enough of you waiting on me hand and foot. I would like to join the rest of the group today, if you don't mind. I think it's time I started pulling my own weight around here."

"Don't mind? Are you kidding- they're dying to get to know you. Especially you-know-who. When he's in camp, he just sits and stares at this tent." Andrea was delighted. Most nights he's parked himself right outside the door. "Are you ready to go out right now?"

Hallie's stomach did a flip-flopat what Andrea said about Daryl. She was suddenly very conscious about how she would look to the others. Especially after Andrea's remark about Daryl. She decided that she was in need of some sprucing up. She washed her face and changed into an oversized t-shirt. She looked down at the shorts, the bruises and knifewounds still very visible on her pale skin. Andrea gave her a pair of black leggings which wrinkled around her ankles from the length. "No one will be looking at your ankles." she shrugged. Hallie brushed her hair. Andrea dug in a backpack and said "Nope. Hang on. We're not finished quite yet." She pulled out a tube of lip gloss, a mascara, and some concealer. "I think today's a good day for you to be a bit girly." she giggled, as Hallie applied the concealer to try to make the fading bruise more difficult to see. She put on two coats of mascara and smeared some of the dark rose lip gloss on her finger and then applied it to her lips. "Oh my goodness." Andrea exclaimed as Hallie rose from the cot. "Wow. I hate you now."

Hallie was horror-struck. "What?" she asked disbelievingly. "Wha...Why would you say that?"

Andrea hugged Hallie and rubbed her back gently. "Because you're just beautiful. Really really beautiful." She tugged on Hallie's hand and said "Come on, I want to show you off." She unzipped the tent and Hallie wobbled towards the door, regaining her strength and feeling more like a human being with every Once outisde, the air was cool and the warmth of the early autumn sun felt wonderful on her face and arms.

"Oh my Lord..." she heard a male voice exclaim. It was Dale, the eldest of the men and "father figure" to everyone. Andrea was especially close with Dale. "Andrea, who you got there?" he joked.

"Hey you guys!" Andrea called. "I would like you all to meet..." she paused for dramatic flair. "Hallie Jane!"

Lori, Carol and Dale quickly surrounded her and greeted her with hugs like they'd known her all their lives. Glenn sprinted over and introduced himself. Rick walked over and said how pleased he was to see her again. After the initial crush of introductions and well-wishes from the rest, Shane Walsh stepped out from behind a jeep parked nearby and just stood there, staring. Hallie glared at him, remembering his remarks when Daryl had brought her back to camp. She turned to him, smiled at him through narrowed eyes and walked slowly over to him, making sure that she was out of earshot of Carl and Sophia. She extended her hand and when he hesitantly reached out to shake it, she looked him in the eye and squeezed his hand, pulling it towards her as hard as she could, nearly causing him to lose his balance. She hissed at him through her clenched jaw. "I guess I should fuckin' thank you for not shooting me, huh, you dick!"

The group fell silent except for one. Leaning against a battered Dodge pickup near the jeep sat Daryl Dixon, cleaning his bow with a faded red shop rag. He was howling with laughter, his head thrown back, slapping his knee and stomping a work-booted-foot so hard a little cloud of dust rose from the dirt. It was the only sound in the camp. He was laughing so hard he nearly dropped the bow and when he stopped, he looked up at Shane and smirked. "Well, I think she's got yer num'ber already, Off-fah-suh!" and chuckled some more, returning to his cleaning his bow, never looking up at Hallie.


	4. Disclosure

**Chapter 4: Disclosure**

**_Remember, I don't claim to own any of the Walking Dead Characters, I'm just borrowing them. I'll put them back like I found them. _  
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Shane was dumbstruck. This little bitch did NOT just say that to me, he thought. He narrowed his eyes and she let go of his hand and turned slowly, dramatically flipping her hair from in front of her shoulder to behind her as she turned to walk back to the others. She was so close to Shane, it whipped behind her and smacked him in the face. Carol stifled a giggle and whispered to T-Dog "I like her already."

As they spent the day getting to know each other and talking about themselves and their life before the outbread, it became very evident to Hallie that the one person she was most anxious to see was making himself scarce. Invisible, in fact. Only a couple times during the entire day did Daryl appear, enter and exit his tent, the crossbow slung over his shoulder, only to then disappear again. He didn't speak at all. He didn't even look at her. Hallie was crushed.

Late in the afternoon, as dinner plans were being made, he showed up out of the thick woods at the edge of camp, walked to his tent and disappeared. This time, he looked straight at her, never taking his eyes off of her. When she first stepped out of Andrea's tent earlier in the day, Daryl couldn't believe that it was the same person that he'd found half-dead in the cell. His heart had been in his throat- she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Petite, with hair dark red-brown hair and skin like ivory. Her hair looked like it was on fire when the morning sunlight peeked through the tree branches and shone directly on the long, loose curls. Her features were delicate and soft and even from across the camp, he was mesmerized by her eyes. He remembered their brilliant green color from when she looked at him after she had awoken.

Daryl came out of his tent and sat with the others for dinner, never speaking to Hallie making minimal comments to the others as well. When he would catch her gaze, she would look down quickly. As dinner was finished and the sun began to set, the group sat around the low fire. Daryl stayed as they talked about their plans. During a lull in the conversation, Carl, Rick and Lori's son, turned to Hallie and said,"Hallie, why were you in jail?"

Lori was mortified and quickly admonished him for asking such a personal question.

"Lori, it's ok. He didn't mean anything by it." Hallie attempted to reassure her. "Carl," she turned to him, "I wasn't really IN jail, I was being forced to stay at a jail by some men who were really bad guys. They didn't like me very much and so they hurt me. That's why I wasn't very well when Daryl found me and brought me here. But it's ok now. You guys have been taking real good care of me." Hallie looked up at Daryl, who was looking away, towards the woods. His expression was one of anger-his face was red, brow furrowed, jaw set-and his fists were clenched tightly.

"Oh." Carl said matter-of-factly. "I thought you were a criminal since Daryl found you in a jail."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence and Carol announced that it was bedtime, at least for Sophia, who hugged Hallie's neck before she left the group and said "I'm glad you're here now, Hallie. We won't let those guys hurt you anymore." Rick and Lori also said their good-nights and Andrea, after watching Daryl look at Hallie all night, decided she and Dale need to take an inventory of "some things" in Dale's camper and quickly disappeared, leaving Hallie with Glenn, Shane and Daryl. Shane had done nothing but glare at Hallie all night. Hallie figured with Rick gone, he would take the opportunity to return the shit she had given him earlier in the day. Shane had had several beers during the evening and she could see even in the dim firelight that he was just waiting for the right moment to confront her. Thankfully Rick poked his head out of his tent and reminded Shane that he had first watch. After Shane had crumpled his beer can and thrown it in the firepit, he stormed off. Glenn asked Hallie if she needed help back to her tent.

"No, Glenn, that's real sweet, but I can manage fine. I'm kinda tired of seeing the inside of that tent- I think I'm going to stay out here and enjoy the air for a little bit longer." Glenn felt Daryl staring holes into his skull and said good night quickly. As he walked off, Hallie became suddenly very uncomfortable with the silence. Daryl stood up slowly and walked over to the woodpile and picked out another log. They kept fire low to keep it from attracting walkers who wandered into the woods but it was damp tonight and the air was getting chilly.

He turned and sat down directly in front of Hallie, looking at her like he was trying see into her soul. She could make out his strong features, his mustache and goatee, the small mole near his mouth. There were butterflies in her stomach now.

"Better?" he grunted , studying her face.

"Much." She didn't dare look at him. Instead, she focused on her feet, his legs, anything but those cool blue eyes. She was now very aware that they were alone.

"Cold?"

"No." She returned his one-syllable questions in kind.

Daryl looked down and gently took Hallie's foot in his hand, placing it flat on his palm, lining it up, her heel with his wrist. She had the tiniest feet Daryl had ever seen. She started to pull her foot away but he grasped it more firmly with his warm hands and damn, it felt nice, Hallie thought.

"You don' got shoes." he said. "Can't go without shoes 'round here."

"I...I don't...lost 'em. " her voice trailed off as he set her foot down gently, keeping his hand around her ankle. Their eyes locked. Hallie's breath caught in her chest and it became more difficult to breath the longer they stared at each other in silence.

Tell me who they were." He said softly.

She shook her head and looked away. Daryl put his hands gently on her knees. "I need ta' know." he said. "What happened? "

"It's over now. I don't want to talk about it." she tore her eyes away from him.

Daryl rose to his knees and took her hands in his. "I have ta' fix this. Who. Were. They." His words slow and deliberate.

Hallie looked back into his eyes. His face was close to hers now and with every breath she caught, the heady scent of smoke, oil, woods clouded her mind. "Hallie..." he said softly. It was the first time she'd heard him speak her name. "Hallie." he repeated, "Help me fix this." he whispered. His blue eyes were so clear, so deep. Hallie's head was swimming.

"Two." She blinked slowly and turned from him. If she were going to tell him this, Hallie couldn't look in his eyes. "Two. I was trying to find supplies in town so I could head back home. I got sloppy. They saw me and caught me and took me there." Her voice was faint and thin.

"Who were they?"

Hallie sighed slowly, steeling herself. "Just two guys. At the jail. They weren't cops. Just two guys. One was the janitor in the town hall. He had all the keys to everything. That's why they were holed up there. The other guy, I'm not sure, I think he was a truck driver or something." She took another slow breath and continued. "They had a lot of guns because of the jail and they would go out every morning and be gone all day, go through town looting and shooting walkers. Then they'd come back and ..." her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes. "Emerick was the big one. He was all business...no talk, just..." A tear rolled down her cheek. Daryl put his hands on her shoulders. "The little one with the cigars was..." she swallowed, not wanting to say the name. "Lloyd." Hallie choked. "Lloyd was the one with the knife. He..." She hesitated, trying to maintain. "He wasn't happy until he made me cry. He...he would say 'it ain't love until one of us is bleedin'." She was sobbing by now and Daryl pulled her to his chest, smoothing her hair, wrapping her in his muscular arms. "He kept telling me exactly how he was going to kill me..."

"Shhh...shhhhh." he whispered. "It's all over. They ain't never gonna hurt you or anyone else again. I promise. You're with me now." He rocked her in his arms until her sobs slowed. He pulled her away and held her at arms length, wiping away tears with a calloused hand. "You understand?" he asked her.

"Yes." she nodded and he pulled him to her again, kissing the top of her head. After a minute she looked up at him. "Daryl?" she said quietly. "Why didn't you talk to me today? I thought you were mad at me."

"Was." he said, still holding her. "Still am."

Hallie was bewildered. He was mad at her yet holding her in his arms. "What for?"

"I couldn't see ya'." he said. "Andrea said you didn't wanna see nobody. I couldn't stand it." he said, twisting a curl between his fingers. "Why did'n you wanna see me?"

"I...I didn't want to answer any questions...from anybody. I was a mess. I...I...didn't want..." At some point, Hallie had wrapped her arms around his waist. She gulped a breath and said it quickly "I didn't want you to see me like that."

Daryl pulled away from her and cocked his head sideways, puzzled, staring at her blankly for a minute. Then he shook his head and grinned. He pulled her arms away and held her chin between his thumb and fingers. "Don' do that again." he warned her, his face serious. He held her gaze for a minute longer. "C'mon." He said, standing up and picking her up in his arms. "Time for bed. Yer toes haf'ta be cold by now."

Hallie was stunned at the conversation that had just taken place, not to mention the emotions. She was being carried back to her tent in the strong arms of a guy she's know for all of a week, who just said "you're with me now." No discussion, no negotiations, just a statement of fact that he understood to be true: she was his.

Daryl kicked open the tent and set her down inside. It was dark. She could barely make out where he was, if it had not been for his hand resting gently on her back. "I'll be gone most a' tomorrow." he said slowly. "Be back 'soon as I can." His hand moved up underneath her hair from Hallie's back to her shoulder and he turned around and bent to place a kiss gently on her cheek.

"Got 'couple things ta take care of." he whispered as he exited the tent.


	5. Retribution

**Chapter 5: Retribution**

_Warning-I'm serious. **Major** foul language and some violence. _ _Say it with me, folks, "I don't own or have any claim to the Walking Dead Characters..." you know the rest! _

Daryl gunned engine of the old pick-up truck. Damn, I miss my F-10, he thought. This piece-of-shit Dodge is gonna get me killed some day. He swung the truck around, into the driveway of a small house at the edge of town and climbed out quickly, putting the keys in his pants pocket. Looking around, he could see a couple walkers in a yard up the street, his presence unnoticed as yet. Let's fuckin' keep it that way Daryl, ol' buddy, he said to himself.

He crept into town, using the houses and abandoned cars as cover. Swinging around to the main street, he made his way slowly to the municipal building where he'd found Hallie. His beautiful, green-eyed Hallie. For a second he lost focus. Slapping his cheek, he brought himself back to the task at hand. He had to find Lloyd and Emerick. They had to pay. Daryl didn't know exactly what he would do when he found them, he just knew that they had a shit-pot full of payback coming and he was going to be the one to serve it up. He circled around the block, taking out a walker that was lurching towards him on the street. It had been a man at one time; now one arm hung precariously from the shoulder socket, the clothes hung in tatters, the putrid flesh smell of rotting flesh was strong from a yard away. Daryl stopped long enough to retrieve his bolt and reload the crossbow. "Motherfucker" he hissed, kicking the corpse's leg.

Daryl was behind the cinder-block municipal building now. He could see the long fenced-in area of the squad car bay. A new padlock and chain had been placed around the gate area since his visit a week or so ago. He moved up near the street-side of the fence and climbed up and over as easily as he had before. He quietly and deftly moved towards the jail's back door, bow in front, aimed and ready. He could already smell the acrid smell of cigar smoke before opening the door. God, he hated that smell. Merle would come home exceptionally drunk on some nights and light up a big cigar and sit in the huge leather arm chair in the living room and leisurely smoke, filling their house with the stench. "Ain't nothin' like a good cee-gaaar!" Merle would proclaim.

"Lloyd!" he called. "Come 'ere." Daryl knew that if he opened the door, and went in blind he was vulnerable to anyone inside and both men were probably heavily armed.

The man's voice on the other side of the door was slow to respond.

"Em'rick?" the thready voice said. " 'S that you?"

"Get the fuck out here!" Daryl yelled again. After more than enough time, Daryl saw the knob start turn slowly and the door started to open. When the top of Lloyd's head was visible, Daryl slammed his full weight against the door, nearly cracking the man's skull between the door and the frame. He fell instantly to the ground. Daryl threw his crossbow over his back and picked up the scruffy, dark-haired man by the collar of his dirty flannel shirt.

Daryl drug the man in through the door and to the open cell. He left him laying on the floor, kicking him twice in the ribs, and slammed the cell door shut. "Mother fucking asshole." he yelled. "We'll see who's the big man now." He noticed that there was a thin filet knife hanging from a sheath on the man's belt. Daryl's blood began to boil thinking of what Hallie'd said. "It ain't love..."

Daryl looked around at the rest of the big room. There were several weapons laying on desks, cases of beer, liquor, food, ammunition, cartons of cigarettes-damn, he missed ciagrettes-liquor, tazers, flashlights. Holy shit, he thought to himself. It's like fuckin' Christmas! He picked up a 9 mm Glock 17 with a nasty looking supressor. He started to walk down a small hallway which he figured lead to other offices in the building. It was dark and there were papers and files all over the floor, making walking treacherous.

The unmistakable sound of a large-caliber handgun being cocked suddenly came from behind him. Daryl wheeled around to see a large man dressed in camo, pointing a gun at him. This HAS to be Emerick, he thought.

"Hands up, Asswipe." the voice from down the hall rang out. "Throw the gun down."

"Don't think so, Mother Fucker" he said, "You first." his Glock was leveled at the man as well.

The taller man pulled the trigger and fired at Daryl, the bullet whizzed by in the dark hallway, narrowly missing his head . Daryl returned the fire, hitting him dead center in the chest. The man fell to the floor with a sickening thud, bleeding all over the discarded papers and manila file folders. From the cell the curly-haired man was screaming "Em'rick... Em'rick!"

Daryl picked up the man's weapon and tucked it into his belt. He stepped over the man's crumpled body and walked slowly back into the main area. When he stepped out of the shadows,, the man in the cell fell to his knees, his head in his hands. "No...No...No...you killed him. You killed Em'rick." he moaned.

"Yeah, maybe I'ma do you next." Daryl walked slowly towards the cell, crossbow now drawn. "You Lloyd?"

"Uh-uuh...How do you know my name?" the man said, looking up. When Daryl got close enough, he froze. Lloyd's face was a ghastly white, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. He was sweating profusely and he had trouble standing without gripping the iron bars of the old cell.

"You been bit, you fuckin' pervert." Daryl yelled.

"No, I ain't been bit. I swear. I'm just hung over, that's all."

"Bull SHIT!" Daryl was screaming now, his mind in overdrive. "Pull up your shirt. Now motherfucker! Before I put a bullet in your brain. Do it! NOW, God-damnit!"

The man pulled off his shirt slowly. Daryl motioned with the gun for him to turn around. There on his back, across the shoulder, was a series of scratches-deep, ugly, infected fingernail marks, just newly-crusted with dried blood. Hallie. Daryl's stomach was in his throat. Oh, fuck!

"How long?" Daryl screamed again. "When did you get those?" He took a step closer and pointed the crossbow at the man's head.

"Uh...uhh...day before yesterday. They...they ain't nothing. Look, Dude, I ain't infected. Honest. I just got caught up in a sticker bush- that's all." The man pleaded as he began coughing violently and sat back on the floor of the cell.

"Fuckin' LYIN to me! Got a bolt pointed right at yer head an' yer lyin' to me! You are a real dumb shit, Lloyd. Those 're from a walker. We both know it, DUDE." Daryl spat out the words.

"Day before yesterday, I swear." the man said softly. "I...I ain't lyin. One got me- through my shirt. I thought I was ok..." his voice trailed off and he stared to sob a bit.

Daryl exhaled and laughed nervously to himself. His jaw relaxed. These were new scratches- even if the they were twice as old as Lloyd claimed, it'd been at least a week since he'd brought Hallie to camp. She was safe. Daryl threw his head back and laughed. " You're already a dead fuck. I don't have to do nothin' but sit here and wait. "

"Mister, please, I don't feel so good. Lemme go and you can take everything we got. I'll leave and you'll never see me again. "

"Lloyd, I know ya' will. That's why I came here...to make sure nobody ever sees ya' again."

"Wha-why? Who are you?" the man stammered, the fever making it hard to think.

"Let's just say Hallie says hello." Daryl hissed. "I came here ta make sure you an' your partner pay for what ya did ta her." Daryl's voice suddenly became ice cold. "You'll be the one bleedin' this time, ya' son of a bitch."

Lloyd suddenly realized that Hallie hadn't gotten away on her own, like he believed. Every day since they returned to find the cell open and the little bitch gone, he had gone hunting for her in town, combing the buildings one by one. Calling her name, taunting her at the risk of drawing walkers to himself. Emerick had made fun of him for missing "his little toy" but Lloyd wanted her back. He wanted to finish what he'd started. That's how he got scratched. Looking for that little whore.

Daryl sat down on the top of the desk and laid the crossbow on his lap. He reached for a warm beer from an open twelve-pack behind him on the desk and popped the top, relishing the familiar hiss. "Well, Lloyd, looks like it's just you n' me." He taunted the man. "Think you'll last much longer? Two days, is it? Shouldn't be long now," he grinned. "Don' really matter. I got all the time in the world. You don'...but I shore' do."

"Hallie." Lloyd said, coughing more, looking up at him through eyes red like fire. "You took her. Where did..." he started to ask but Daryl cut him off abruptly, picking up the Glock and aiming at his head.

"Say her name one more time, Fuckface, I'll blow your head clean off." Daryl said with no emotion. Tilting his head and the gun sideways and sighting in Lloyd's head, Daryl raised an eyebrow. "Believe it." he said.

Daryl sat for an hour, watching Lloyd struggle more and more to breathe and become increasingly more soaked with sweat as Lloyd's fever continued to skyrocket. The virus was taking hold more quickly now, tearing into his brain, shutting down his organs one by one.

"Mister, please." Lloyd was sitting up against the side wall of the cell. "Just kill me now. I don't want to be a walker."

"Wasn't planning on that." Daryl said cooly, popping his third warm beer. "Was gonna let ya be a walker meal. Thought you'd make a good get-away distraction. How 'bout that? Sound good to ya', Lloyd? Sounds real good ta' me."

Lloyd coughed and slumped down. "Please Mister, I'm sorry for what we did. I'm sorry. Please just kill me now. Don't let me become one of those things. "

"Lloyd, I'll have to think about that." he said rising, a little wobbly from warm beer and no breakfast. "Lemme' piss on it and roll it around a bit...I'll get back to ya' on that..." Daryl picked up his bow and wandered off down the hallway to find someplace to relieve himself of the three beers.

When he returned, Lloyd was laying in the middle of the cell, a dark black stain flowing out on the floor around his body. "What the HELL?" Daryl ran to the cell door and could see now there was blood everywhere- on Lloyd, on the floor, seeping in a wider and wider circle around him. Lloyd let out a final sickening gurgle as he bled out. He had taken the small filet knife on his belt and cut his own throat. "Well, thank you, Lloyd, you sick son-of-a-bitch. Thanks for saving me the trouble." Daryl was almost genuinely thankful...almost.

Daryl turned around and looked at the various items that Lloyd and Emerick had managed to stockpile while they were occupying the jail. Three shotguns, two rifles, several 9 millimeter and .45 caliber handguns, ammunition, gear- it was all right here in front of him. He picked up the keys from the desk and made a plan to get this stuff all back to camp and to take care of Lloyd to keep him from "reanimating" as Jenner had called it.

Daryl made his way back to the pick up and drove it through town to the bay at the back of the jail. He backed the truck up to jail door and unlocked the gate, giving him the freedom to carry things safely from inside the jail to the truck without having to worry about walkers. He used the Glock to dispatch Lloyd and just for good measure, Emerick. Why take a chance and add two more walkers to the horde, he thought.

Daryl hit the edge of the town, lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply. It was mid-afternoon by the time he had filled the back of his truck. His last-minute stop at what looked like a camping supply store had made him extremely happy, as well. He couldn't help but be pleased with himself, as he tipped up the bottle of whiskey and took a sip. "Hell yeah" he yelled to himself, as he swerved to miss a possum' in the road. "Been a good day, Dixon. Gonna' be a' even better night, too!"


	6. Closing One Door and Opening Another

**WARNING: MAJOR BAD LANGUAGE FROM SEVERAL CHARACTERS!** Seriously-I used a certain word I despise but I wanted to illustrate how horrible the person was who used it!

Thank you for all the reviews-it makes me so happy to read your comments! Please keep them coming and tell me what you think. Remember-I'm a newbie at this fan fiction stuff. As always-I don't own the WD or any of it's characters and I'm not profiting from any of this, just having fun and keeping my mind busy for a while.

**Chapter Six: Closing One Door and Opening Another**

It was later in the afternoon. Daryl's pickup truck had been missing since breakfast and everyone was uneasy. It was the topic of conversation at breakfast, in fact. After Shane suggested that Daryl had abandoned the group and gone off on his own, looking for Merle and making some rather derogatory remarks about Dixons in general, Hallie spoke up.

"Guys," she said quietly, making sure she was close to Rick when she spoke. "Daryl said he'd be back later this afternoon. I'm sure he's ok." trying to convince herself of this as much as the others. She leaned back, looking behind Rick and caught Shane's eye. She narrowed her eyes , hopefully to convey the depth of the feelings she had for him at that moment. She returned her focus to the group. "He said he had a couple things to do." Well Hallie Jane, she thought, that there was a little white lie. His exact words were 'got a couple things to take care of" and Hallie was forcing herself not to think of what he'd actually meant by that choice of words. She was terrified of the thought of him going back there to find...them. She regretted that she'd not been stronger and wished she had not told Daryl anything about what had happened.

The rest of the day, the group went about their normal business. The men busied themselves with patrol, firewood, water, food. The ladies' work was simple- keep up camp, fix meals, laundry. Sophia and Carl worked on "school" with Carol after lunch. Hallie went with Lori and Andrea to the lake to wash clothes. It was difficult with no soap, more like rinsing and pounding out the dirt and stains. Everyone's clothes got washed, except Daryl's. Lori explained that Daryl doesn't give them his laundry and Hallie found this curious. "So, he doesn't wash his clothes or he just doesn't let YOU guys wash his clothes?" Andrea said that the answer was probably a little of both, giggling and winking at Lori. Hallie didn't find it funny at all, and returned to rinsing out a man's t-shirt.

As they were returning to camp, they heard the sound of Daryl's truck pull into camp, the door slam and then excited voices. Lori and Andrea sprinted up the small hill from the lake, but Hallie took her time. Her ribs were still a bit sore and sitting on a rock doing other people's laundry hadn't helped much. Neither had trying not to worry about Daryl. When Hallie crested the hill, everyone was gathered around the truck, looking in the bed. When she moved closer, she could see what the commotion was about. Daryl had filled the truck bed with boxes. She recognized a lot of the stuff from the jail. Her heart was in her throat. She didn't see Daryl anywhere.

"Where's Daryl?" she asked frantically, grabbing Glenn's arm as she approached the truck. "Is he ok?"

"Yeah, he's fine." he looked at her, puzzled. "Dude did good-look at all this stuff!"

"But where IS he?" she squeezed his arm.

"Took off. Said to tell you check your tent. He headed towards the woods as soon as he got here." Glenn returned to the group's shared fervor of inventorying the haul in the back of the truck. There were squeals when various items were discovered, mostly having to do with food...or drink.

Hallie ran to her tent and whipped open the door, hoping that Glenn was wrong and Daryl was inside, safe and unharmed. "Fuck!" she yelled when the tent was empty. She looked around to find that on top of her cot was a large box. On top, in black magic marker was scribbled "Hike. 15 minutes. D." Hallie took the lid off the box and gasped out loud. The first thing she saw was a pair of brown suede hiking boots. She slipped one on-it was loose without socks but she would manage. How did he know what size, she thought, then she remembered the foot thing last night- he had been measuring her foot. She set the boots aside and dove into the rest of the box. She felt like a kid at Christmas-a flannel-lined windbreaker, down vest, shirts and some socks. Daryl Dixon had gone shopping, she marveled, and he even thought of socks.

Hallie stepped out of the tent and zipped the door flap. Daryl had been waiting on her, leaning on the pickup truck, chewing on the corner of his thumbnail. He tried to appear calm when he saw her exit the tent but he was sure that Dale heard him growl "Shiiiiiit." Hallie's hair was down and it was blowing in the afternoon breeze, little strands of copper sparkled throughout as she walked towards him in the sunlight, smiling. She had on cut-offs, one of the flannel shirts from the box, a white tank top underneath and the hiking boots. Her socks were scrunched down and even though her legs weren't exactly long, they were all muscle. Daryl's mind went straight to the thought of what it would be like to have them wrapped around him and he blushed a bit. He tried not to stare as his eyes traveled upwards from her legs, but he couldn't help it.

"Hey." he said as she approached, trying to show no emotion. "Come on." he said, grabbing her hand before she could say anything in return. He pulled Hallie in the direction of the woods. She noticed that Daryl had a leather bag slung over his shoulder in addition to his crossbow.

They walked in silence into the woods for about 5 minutes. "Daryl." Hallie finally said. He kept walking. "DARYL!" she repeated.

This time he stopped and turned around. "Gotta pee?" he asked. "Already?"

"No, Dad. I went before we left home." she smiled. "I..." she looked at his face and had a hard time thinking of what she intended to say. "I just wanted to say thanks." She looked down and wiggled her feet. "They're perfect." She looked back up at him. "And, uh, I also .." she hesitated again, "I'm glad you're back ok."

Daryl took a step towards her and smiled. "Come on. Not far." he said looking into her green eyes for just a bit too long. He turned and started walking quickly again.

They came to a small area where the trees thinned somewhat. Not exactly a clearing, but the trees were not as close and there was little scrub. There was a fresh hole dug in the ground; a shovel leaning against a nearby tree. Hallie chastised herself for mentally sizing up the hole to see if she would fit inside.

"Sit." he said, turning to her and motioning for her to sit beside the hole. Hallie sat down dutifully and kept her mouth shut. The hard look now on Daryl's face told her he was serious. He sat down next to her and laid the bag beside him.

"You saw the truck." he said. "You know where I went."

"Yes." she answered quietly. Without thinking, she drew her legs up an wrapped her arms around her knees, looking down to the hole.

Daryl reached for the bag and sat it between them in the grass. He leaned towards her and with one hand, gently, unconsciously, ran his fingers through her hair, pushing it to the side, out of her eyes. "Don't freak." he said softly, opening the bag and pulling out a long object wrapped in a plastic zip-lock bag. Daryl unrolled the bag and it became clear to Hallie what it contained. She looked at him with wild eyes and bolted upright, making a small whimpering sound. It was Lloyd's knife. The hair on her arms stood up and she struggled to breath, knowing if she opened her mouth, she'd scream.

Daryl grabbed her arm, trying to calm her. "S'ok. I'm here. Hallie, it's ok."

She pulled away. "Where the fuck did you get that?" she demanded. She hit his arm hard. "Daryl, what are you doing with it?" She was near tears and panicking now. She grabbed the bag and looked at the knife. "Fucking hell, Daryl. Is that...blood? " she searched is face frantically. "Is that ...MY blood?" she said, trying not to throw up right then and there.

"Hallie Jane!" Daryl said sharply, his steely blue eyes flashing. "Breathe. They're dead. They're both dead. It's not your blood. It's Lloyd's." he said calmly. Daryl took the bag from her and laid it down. He took her hands in his. For the next several minutes he detailed what had happened in town earlier that day. How Emerick had shot first, what had happened to Lloyd, how scared he was until he found out exactly when Lloyd had been infected. What all he had found at the jail." Hallie sat quietly, not knowing what to say. Her head turned away from him, her thoughts were racing.

When Daryl was finished, he shifted and knelt in to her on his knees, putting his hands on either side of her legs and his face close to hers. "Hallie. Say somethin'. Don't shut down on me." She turned her face towards his, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"They're both dead?" she whispered. "Are you sure?"

"Deader'n fuck. Won't be coming back. Ever. Dead-ass motherfuckers fer sure. They ain't gonna hurt you or anybody else anymore. Made sure of it." he said. "Now we're gonna make sure ya' put it behind ya'." He stood up abruptly walked over to the tree to retrieve the shovel.

"Pick it up." He said as he walked back, motioning towards the knife. "Go on-pick it up."

Hallie looked at him and hesitantly picked up the bag with the knife.

"Now let it go. It's over." he said, standing next to her. Hallie finally understood what he was doing for her. She held the bag for a minute and closed her eyes. She could remember the feel of the knife on her skin. The glint in Lloyd's eyes matched the glint on the steel as he held it to her, taunting her with it. She shook her head and said "Never again, you cocksucker. You're fucking dead. You're BOTH fucking dead and guess what. I'm NOT! I hope you burn in hell, you sick fucks! " Then she threw the bag in the hole, tears streaming down her face again. Daryl quickly began to cover the hole with the dirt from the pile beside it. When he was finished, Hallie was on her feet. He tossed the shovel aside and pulled her to him, crushing her to his chest. "It's over. " he repeated as she burst into wracking sobs. He stroked her hair and held him to her until well after she stopped. It seemed like hours that the two just stood there, Daryl holding Hallie in his arms.

"Daryl." she whispered finally. "I...I don't know what to do to thank you." she looked up at him. His eyes were deep blue, so beautiful they took her breath away. "I...what do I do to repay you? For everything?"

"Nuthin'. You don't gotta' do nuthin' ." He lied. What he really wanted to say was "Let me hold you like this forever."

The two walked back to camp in silence, hand in hand. The truck had been unloaded and there were a lot of questions. Rick was emphatic that while he was not ungrateful for what Daryl had brought back, not by a long shot, he was furious that Daryl had left by himself. They had a rather loud and heated disagreement behind Dale's camper but returned to join the group and without any obvious signs of any lasting hostilities. Truth be told, Rick was ecstatic- Daryl had brought back weapons and ammunition to replace their quickly dwindling supplies. He'd suspected why Daryl had really gone back, but at the moment he wasn't going to question it. The rest of the stuff in the truck- the food, batteries, flashlights, beer, and other items, well, that was just icing on the cake.

Shane and Rick took a case couple cases of beer to the cool in the small lake where the women had been washing clothes earlier. In the mean time, the women readied the evening meal. Hallie was never so grateful to see a can of Spam in her life. There were canned vegetables, crackers, canned fruit. Carl remarked that they were having a feast. Everyone ate more than they have in weeks and the thanks and congratulations to Daryl were numerous and heartfelt. The only person that didn't have anything pleasant to say was Shane, who kept staring at Hallie. He hadn't waited for any of the beer to cool-he'd started right in and by the time dinner was over, he was well into his cups.

Everyone sat around the fire after dinner, laughing, telling stories, making jokes. It was as close to a normal night as they'd had in a long time, all things considered. Hallie had been sitting near Daryl all night. Not much conversation passed between the two, but Dale and Andrea, who were sitting opposite of Hallie and Daryl, could see a lot of the glances exchanged between them. When Hallie rose to retrieve something warmer to put on, Daryl took the opportunity to go bring up more beer. What he didn't see was Shane quietly walking towards Hallie's tent, cutting her off and standing in front of her.

"Can I help you?" she said flatly, trying to move around him.

"Yeah. I got some questions." he said, moving in the same direction to block her path once more. It was obvious from his slight wobble, not to mention his beer-soaked breath, that he was drunk.

"Are you acting in your official capacity Shane, you know, as an asshole?"

"I wanna know who you really are." he demanded.

"What? What are you talking about?" she put her hands on her hips and widened her stance. He was so much bigger and taller than her it wouldn't have been much of a fight but she couldn't let him think she was an easy target.

"I don't think you're as sweet as everyone else thinks. You're not fooling me a bit." Hallie was starting now to get nervous. "You were already IN that jail, weren't you? You weren't kidnapped. What did you do, huh? " He grabbed her arm and squeezed. "Meth? DUI? Bad checks? Or were you trying to make ends meet by being a whore and they just decided to put you on their payroll?" He was in her face now, spitting his accusations at her, his eyes burning. His grip was on both arms now, like a vice, shaking her almost hard enough to make her lose her balance. "I think you LIKE fucking rednecks. Is that it? You sure took up with Dixon quick enough. You gotta' thing for backwoods, piece of shit, inbred assholes like him, is that it? Is that what you like between your legs, you little cunt?" he hissed, shaking her harder.

Hallie was frightened now and the flight part of her survival mechanism had been lost a long time ago. It was time to fight. Hallie looked at Shane and instinct took over. She began to smile. A big wide grin. She willed herself to look in his face and smile at him. Shane narrowed his eyes and said when he started to "What the fuck are you smiling about?" the distraction was just enough in his drunken state, just confusing enough to make him loosen his grip on her upper arms. Hallie planted her back leg and swung her front let up as high as it would go. Her foot connected with Shane's groin with all the force she could muster. He took a small step back, dropping his hands, and falling to his knees in front of her. Hallie pulled back her leg as he fell and used her knee on his chin. Shane was in a heap on the ground in front of her.

She grabbed a handful of his hair and bent down, her face almost touching his. He had tears in his eyes.

"You bitch, you little bitch..." he moaned.

"Now listen here, you drunk son of a bitch.. You don't know me, you don't know anything about me. I don't know what your damage is, but you stay the fuck away from me or I'll wait for you to pass out some night and I'll gut you in your sleep. You say I'm not who everybody thinks, well, maybe you're right. Maybe I'm a PSYCHO bitch and you've just pulled my trigger. Stay away from me, Officer Walsh, I'm not going to warn you again..." Hallie slapped him across the face hard. "and another thing..." she said, pushing his head away and dropping her grip on his hair, "I AIN'T fucking Daryl Dixon!"

She stepped around Shane, still on the ground holding his crotch with both hands, and ran to her tent. She curled up on the cot and began shaking uncontrollably. She was frightened by Shane's anger- this wasn't just drunk, there was something else to this. He genuinely hated her and it was obvious that he hated Daryl as well. She couldn't put the pieces together...and she couldn't tell Daryl what had just happened. Ever. She had to keep this from him. If he went after Shane, even rightfully so, it would be bad for the whole group. She sat up and tried to compose herself. She had to go back out to the fire, act like nothing had happened. She looked at her hands. They were shaking less now. I can do this, she thought, as she stood up, I HAVE to do this. She unzipped the tent flap and looked outside for any sign of Shane. He was gone. She walked slowly to the fire and sat next to Daryl, closer than before. Without thinking, he reached his hand to her hair. His gesture made her suddenly feel safer.

"Where ya' been?" he asked in a low voice, the shadows from the low fire danced across the angled features of his handsome face. Hallie took a deep breath and relaxed a bit. She looked at his eyes. In the firelight they were dark blue now and his eyelids were heavy from the beers he'd drank during the evening. "Ya tryin' to ditch me?"

"Not a chance." she said, taking the can of cool beer out of his hand. She looked at him and winked. Raising it to her lips, she drained the can. When it was gone, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand and looked at him. "Not a fucking chance." she said softly.


	7. Relocation

**Thank you so much for the reviews! I live for them. Are you bored yet? Feel like it's starting to drag...  
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**Chapter 7 Relocation**

One thing Hallie had come to notice over the last few days since the incident with Shane was that he was trying to steer clear of her. The only person he really had a lot of interaction with was Rick. He was becoming increasingly less a part of the group and keeping to himself more and more. On one hand, Hallie was happy not to see Shane around camp, on the other, it made her somewhat nervous.

Daryl was apparently doing just the opposite, according to an offhand remark Lori made. He was in camp now more than ever. Andrea and Lori had teased Hallie about this fact, saying that Daryl was obviously smitten. There were sitting in lawn chairs behind Dale's camper, a now-daily after-breakfast routine for the women. Cup of bad coffee and girl-talk to plan their day. Hallie enjoyed their company more and more.

"Seriously, you two, you're worse than two old women," Hallie had chided them when they brought her and Daryl again up again. "There is nothing going on between Daryl and me. I swear. Why does everybody think we're a couple?"

"Seriously yourself. You know as well as I do that he is crazy about you. He has been since day one. You should see the looks he gives you when he thinks nobody's looking." Andrea replied. "For God sake, Hallie, he was whistling the other day when he was cleaning squirrels! Daryl Dixon. WHISTLING!

"Oh, and you're just as bad, Sweetheart," Lori joined in. "We see you looking at him with those big green eyes and we can just see it all over your face. You're in looo-oooove!" She teased. "What I can't figure out is why he hasn't carried you off to his tent yet."

"Oh my GAWD! You two are awful!" Hallie tried to keep up her serious face. She knew she was busted, at least. She never got tired of looking at him. "Daryl isn't interested in me at all. He saved my life and he's been nice to me, but getting me horizontal is not on his radar."

"Then there's either something wrong with your detector or with his gun!" Lori snapped back. By this time, she and Andrea were laughing loudly.

"I'm sure his gun is just fine." Hallie said without thinking. "No wait, that's not what I meant. I don't know about his gun, I don't know if he even has a gun. I...I...oh, crap!" he stumbled, trying to take back her words, which just made Lori and Andrea laugh more.

Carol had joined the group and scooted her chair up close. "No, but I'll bet his arrow can get pretty straight from time to time." she said quietly with a sly smile.

With this, the four were howling with laughter. Dale walked up as Hallie was wiping the tears from her eyes. "Good Morning Dale, she said with a grin on her face. "We were just talking about weapons."

"I'm not buying that one at all," he said, "but Rick and Shane have asked me to have you Ladies come to the fire, they want to talk to the group. Right now."

It was obvious something was up, but no one other than Rick and Shane had any clue as to what and everyone was somewhat apprehensive. Everyone was gathered around when Rick stepped forward.

"I know that we're all getting comfortable in this spot, but we need to talk about what we're going to do next." Rick was tall, rugged, handsome. He spoke with ease and confidence, with a gentle tone of authority. Hallie knew that be believed what he was saying. "It's getting late in the season and we're vulnerable here. Tents aren't going to be much shelter when winter hits outright. Plus, our perimeter is difficult to maintain adequately and guarantee our safety. We need to find something more permanent and I think we may have found just that place."

Rick explained that he and Shane had found a map of the greater Atlanta area about a week ago and it had a scout camp marked on it. Shane remembered it from being there a couple summers when he was younger. Shane stepped forward and started to speak.

"It's been a few years since I even thought about this place. It may not be in great shape, but from what I remember, it may make a good base camp for winter. It's a lot of ground. There's a big administration building in the middle of the camp, a nice size lake that they kept stocked and the water came from wells. Don't know about gas or electricity or a generator or what, but there's lots of room for everyone. They ran camps throughout the entire spring and summer and on into fall, so if we're lucky and it's still in use, they may have been stocked up with supplies pretty good before all this hit. Hopefully it's not been looted too much. The best part is that it is fenced all the way around.

"Why now?" Daryl stood up. "After what happened the last time we followed ya? Tha' CDC? Why should fuckin' we believe ya' that THIS place is safe?" You could tell from the way he emphasized his words by gesturing with his hands that he was not too keen to follow Rick anywhere again.

T-Dog stood up. "Daryl's got a point, Rick. How do we know that this is going to put us any further ahead than staying here?"

"Look, folks, " Rick walked back into the center of the group. "I understand your apprehension. I do. I don't blame you all for doubting me. But it's starting to get pretty chilly now. We're risking problems due to exposure. Food is getting harder to find and I'm worried that what happened to us at the last camp will happen again. " He continued. "We don't know what walkers will do when it gets really cold. It may slow them down, may even stop them, it may not. But if they're not finding food in the city any more, my worry is that we'll have more and more of them coming out here and we're real vulnerable. We know that there are starting to be bigger and bigger groups of them, packs, if you will, and I want us to be somewhere where we can guard against...another overrun."

Dale was the next to speak. Sweet, smart, adorable Dale. Father-figure to all and more often than not, the voice of reason. "People, I think this may be a good gamble. Even if it isn't in great shape and it's not stocked, the big thing that has my interest is that fence. We need a good solid perimeter. We need security. We can manage the other stuff- but it will be a lot easier if we've got some security. You forget," he said quietly, looking straight at Hallie, "walkers aren't the only bad things out there."

"Aw, this is BULLSHIT." Daryl said excitedly. "Y'all are ready to just jump on the first thing he says again and follow him like sheep? After what happened last time?" He was pacing now. "Fuck this! We don't know nothing' about this place, 'cept what HE remembers?" Daryl pointed at Shane. "If we'd listened to him a month ago, SHE wouldn't be here right now." He looked at Hallie, his blue eyes on fire. "Remember Shane- 'member THAT? Yer' judgment's so fuckin' great- my ASS! Ya' remember what you wanted to do?" Daryl continued to pace.

Nobody said a word for several minutes. Hallie was feeling very uncomfortable. She did NOT need anymore fuel thrown on the fire and calling Shane out in front of everybody was not going to go down easy. Shane looked back and forth between Hallie and Daryl, the only sign of emotion was that his face had become more red than usual.

"Guys." Glenn stood up and walked to the middle, uncharacteristically outspoken. "I think we need to consider this. We don't know what winter's going to be like. We need permanent shelter. We need heat, other than a campfire that we have to keep so tiny that it's not worth anything. Dale's right. What we need most, though," he paused, "is a fence. I think we should consider this"

"Alright," Shane said, "let's take a few minutes to all think about it and we'll take a vote. That seems fair. "

It was easy to see the alliances and bonds from the discussion. Andrea and Dale had their heads together first and then Carol joined them. Rick and Lori. Glenn and T-Dog. Hallie quietly moved next to Daryl.

"What do you think?" she asked , her back turned away from Shane.

"I think they're all re-tards if they think this 's a good ideal." he said. "We don't know nothin' about this place. Don't know what we're gonna find. Don't know if it's safe or not. Could be full of walkers. Don't like it."

"I know. I would feel better if we knew for sure what it was like. But Daryl, even if all it has is a fence, wouldn't it be better than being out in the open like this? " she tried to think it through out loud.

"How 'we know what's inside that fence...or if that fence is even still there?" he asked. He took her by the elbow and walked away from the others. "Tell me what you want to do." he said. "Do you want to go?"

"I don't know. I...maybe. We're safer in a group but I'm like you, I don't know what we're going to find- and that scares me."

Shane gave a whistle to signal everyone back to the main group. "Ok people, any more questions?"

"Yeah. Who died an' made you God?" Daryl said flatly. Shane acted as if he didn't hear him.

"Everybody who wants to leave and leave soon, raise your hands." Seven hands went up. Daryl's did not. Neither did Hallie's.

"Raise 'em if you want to stay." Now Daryl's hand went up.

Rick looked around the group. "Hallie, wanna tell us what you think? Don't mean to put you on the spot, but I couldn't help noticing that you didn't vote either way."

Hallie cleared her throat. "I don't know. I think I'd feel better with knowing more but I know we don't have that luxury. I knew how the group was going to vote, so I figured it didn't matter one more vote, either way." She tried not to look at Daryl.

"Fair enough." he said. "Looks like we're going to give it a shot." he said calmly. "Everybody start working on breaking down camp. We'll leave tomorrow morning as soon as we can. It's about 40 miles from here, northeast of the city. We'll take the back roads and try to avoid any towns. Anybody needs any help packing up, just holler."

Daryl stormed back to his tent. "Fuck"! he yelled as he threw the bow on the air mattress. He kicked a plastic foot locker and sent it flying. "Don't fuckin' BELIEVE this shit!" he said through gritted teeth. "Not AGAIN!" he hissed.

Hallie walked back to her tent slowly, listening to Daryl. Everyone in camp was listening to Daryl. She felt like she'd betrayed him but even if she had voted to stay, it wouldn't have changed the outcome. She stopped at Dale's camper and offered to help he and Andrea and Carol pack when she finished Andrea's tent.

After about an hour, she looked around. Everything was boxed, unassembled, ready to load. The only thing left was the sleeping bag and a change of clothes. She sat down a minute to rest before going to help Carol and Andrea, her back to the door when she heard the tent unzip.

"Andrea, I think I have everything," she said. "except what I'll need tonight." She turned around. It was Daryl standing there, looking very agitated. He was sweating a bit.

Hallie looked at Daryl and bit her lip. "You mad?"

"At you?" he said. "No."

"Good. I was worried you were." she stood up and crossed her arms. "Need help packing up?'

"Nope." he said. He took a step closer to her. The tent was stuffy and he became aware of how little air there was.

"Daryl?"

He took another step and was close enough now to put his hands on her shoulders. "I'm only goin' cos' a' you." he said, as Hallie raised her face to look at him. "Jus' thought ya' should know." He was staring into her eyes, trying to tell her how he felt, not wanting to sound like an idiot.

"Daryl," she said. "Do NOT do this. Don't think you have to go on my account if you don't think..." but Hallie didn't have a chance to finish her sentence. Daryl pulled her to him and kissed her hard on the lips. It was firm- no accident, no second thoughts, no doubts. Daryl had intended to do this for a long time. He'd been waiting for the right moment. Hallie's thoughts were swimming. She hadn't picked up on any outward signs of him being interested in her lately, much less any any obvious public displays of affection. She kissed him back, putting a hand on his stomach. It was solid...strong. She could feel the muscles in his abdomen through his thermal shirt and could feel his breathing start up again as he pulled away from her lips. He pulled her hand from his stomach up to his lips and kissed it gently. Then without another word, he turned and walked out of the tent. Hallie stood there blinking, confused and speechless.

The next morning, everyone pulled down tents, arranged things in the vehicles, and made final preparations for the move. Hallie was helping Andrea fold the tent and put it in it's bag as Daryl strode up He was sweaty, the front of his shirt was soaked around his collar and down his chest. Hallie turned her head away to keep from staring. He went to the pile of things to be loaded into the camper last and picked up the box of clothes that he'd left on her cot that day. Without a word, he put them in the bed of his truck. Andrea stopped and watched, her mouths open. As matter-of-factly as he had walked up, Daryl went about checking the straps on Merle's chopper that was now firmly tied down in the bed of Daryl's truck as well.

"Well." Hallie said flatly. "I guess I'm riding with Daryl then?" she asked, and raised her eyebrows at Andrea.

"Don't get you too full of yourself, Girlfriend," Andrea joked. "Remember, the motorcycle went in before you did." Hallie didn't hear. She was thinking about that kiss again.

"Ok everybody. Let's roll!" Rick yelled. The camp was deserted and everyone was milling around near their vehicles. Daryl was sitting in the truck already. He'd left the passenger side door open for Hallie. She was talking to Dale and Carol. For the love of Christ, woman, get in the fuckin' truck, he thought. Just what he thought he was going to say to her when she did, however, was another story. From across the camp, Hallie turned to the truck and looked at him, her head cocked slightly to one side, as if she heard him. She turned back to Carol and hugged her neck and then hugged Dale. "Be careful. See you when we get there!" she said and walked to the truck. Climbing in, she pulled the door shut and leaned back against the seat. The truck was old, with a bench seat. Daryl's crossbow sat between them, ever present.

Daryl started the engine up and looked at Hallie. His heart skipped a beat. He'd kissed her and she'd kissed him back. Now she was in his truck. Riding with him. Just the two of them. He'd never been with a woman like her before. She turned and smiled at him, her green eyes bright. She propped her legs up on the dash, her feet crossed at the ankle and put her hands behind her head.

He rolled his eyes and grinned. "Put yer damn seat belt on!" he said, "and no, we ain't stopping for no fuckin' ice cream!"


	8. Red Arrow

**Thanks for the lovely comments. You're keeping me going on this!**

**No claims on anything from the Walking Dead, other than a massive obsession with DD/NR. **

**Chapter 8: Red Arrow**

The trip to the camp took almost 3 hours. They had to stop often to siphon gas from abandoned vehicles and from time to time, move a vehicle that was blocking the road. The saw only a few walkers, mostly the ones that they encountered had been wandering around abandoned vehicles. Hallie spoke little and Daryl was grateful for that. He was glad she was not a chatty girl. He'd been with chatty girls. He hated chatty girls. Hallie was definitely not a chatty girl and Daryl was pretty sure he did not hate her.

They arrived about a half-mile out and stopped the caravan on the side of the road. Rick, T-Dog, and Daryl left the others and went to scout out the camp. Shane perched on top of Dale's camper and Dale patrolled the area on foot. Rick, T-Dog and Daryl set off, promising to return quickly.

The three men walked quietly down the road to the main gate. It was made of massive logs and carved into the top in rustic letters was the name "Camp Red Arrow." Daryl chuckled to himself, hoping it wasn't an omen. The gate was bordered by a high chain link fence which went as far as they could see in either direction. They climbed the fence and continued down the main road from the gate to the camp itself. Daryl saw lots of deer sign, which made him reconsider that this was a bad idea. They came across two walkers in the woods, which Daryl quickly dispatched with his crossbow.

After about a quarter-mile walk up the overgrown drive, they spotted a group of buildings. The one in the middle was low and wide with an angled tin roof. The sign above the double doors said "Mess Hall." Next to that was a huge garage, with closed doors. The other building was a large block building with a sign that said "Administration." They motioned to each other to check out the administration building first. The door was open and they cautiously walked in, weapons drawn. There was a large room with stone fireplace and on the outside of the great-room, each opening to the main room, were several other rooms. The four largest rooms were obviously sleeping areas, each having several sets of bunk beds lined up against the walls. The smaller rooms each appeared to each have a purpose. One's door was marked "Infirmary." Another door was "Storage. "A third was marked "Office." There were no signs of walkers in the Admin building, but the main room was going to need some serious cleaning, dirt and leaves had blown in and everything was covered in dust. It appeared that the people had abandoned the camp in haste, leaving many things behind.

The men crept quietly towards the garage. The heavy corrugated metal doors were on tracks and were closed, but even through the doors, they could hear walkers- their dragging footsteps, the low moaning , bumps and thumps as they walked into things inside. T-Dog pulled on one of the doors from the side as Daryl and Rick took aim. There were four inside- all male, in work pants and shirts, obviously they had been staff of the camp, as a couple of them had red arrow emblems on their pockets. They made quick work of the four and piled their rotten corpses in the gravel drive behind the garage to burn later. The garage contained riding mowers, a tractor with a blade and backhoe, tools, and a large dump-truck.

They worked their way to the Mess Hall. The doors were locked and appeared as if no one had tampered with anything. Popping the lock with the butt of his rifle, Rick stepped inside cautiously. He motioned for the other two men to follow. Inside they found no signs of walkers or looters. There were rows of tables in neat lines in the main room. In the kitchen off to the side, there was a large gas cook stove, a couple refrigerators, two chest-type deep-freezes, and large metal storage cabinets full of canned goods, sealed bins of rice, pasta, flour, sugar and cereals. Rick looked at the other two men and grinned.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked them.

"I'm thinking about pancakes" T-Dog said. He held up a large bottle of maple syrup, still sealed. "Definitely pancakes." he laughed.

"Fuckin' 'A!" Daryl agreed. "We'll be eating good tonight!"

The men returned to find their absence had been uneventful. No cars, no walkers; it was quiet on the road. The women, Shane and Dale listed in disbelief at what they'd found and were anxious to check things out themselves. Daryl took Dale's bolt cutters and snipped the chain on the font gate. After everyone was inside, he locked the gate back.

They drove in silence up to the main buildings and exited the vehicles. Rick herded everyone into the Admin building and as they walked around, marveling at their surroundings, some rules were laid down.

"Nobody goes anywhere without someone else. Especially between buildings. We use the buddy system, even during the day until we're sure we're alone. This place looks too good to be true and I want to make sure there're no surprises. We post guards, patrol in four hour shifts, and for the first week, no excess noise, no vehicles, no lights visible from outside. We sleep in here-Carol, Hallie and Andrea and the kids in one room, Lori, me and Carl in another, Daryl, Shane, T-Dog and Dale in there. Anybody who knows how to use a weapon gets one and keeps it on them at all times. Let's start unloading the vehicles. We'll eat and cook in here until we're sure things are quiet. You see anything, anything at all, you yell. Does everybody understand?"

"All the same to you, I'm sleepin' in there." Daryl said, motioning to the office.

"Fine. Not surprised." Rick agreed and looked at Hallie without thinking. "Just watch yourself."

It took a several hours to start getting settled in. The ladies pulled the more comfortable furniture out and made a half-circle sitting area around the fireplace. Wood was brought in and a small fire started. They swept, dusted, covered windows with blankets and made beds. The men continued to look for signs of walkers, looters, or anything else out of the ordinary. They burned the walker bodies behind the garage with gas from one of the many full cans stacked near the wall.

After dinner, the group sat around and enjoyed the warmth of the fire. Dale brought out two bottles of wine he'd been saving and after Sophia and Carl were tucked safely in bed, the adults had a chance to finally relax. Daryl had been busy all afternoon working to get things unloaded, secured and set up. He'd hardly had a chance to speak to Hallie, who had been busy as well.

Now, they sat next to each other on one of the small couches with the others in front of the fire. After her second glass of wine, Hallie's eyelids started to droop. It was hard to pay attention to the conversation, especially when Daryl was so close. She could feel him looking at her and what's worse, she could smell his scent. Daryl-smell. She breathed in deep and closed her eyes. He leaned over and took her glass. "Cuttin' ya' off. Yer' fallin asleep with yer' drink in yer' hand."

"I'm not drunk, Goofy, I'm just exhausted...and relaxed. Very relaxed." she said dreamily, breathing in his scent again as he leaned closer.

Daryl pulled he to his shoulder and said "Yeah, yer' relaxed alright. Let's get you to bed before you're so relaxed ya' spend the night here on th' couch."

Daryl stood up and pulled Hallie up with him. He put his arm around her waist and walked her to the room where she was to sleep with the Carol and Andrea. He stopped outside the door and turned to her. "Ya' know," he said with a grin, "I got a nice air mattress. Ya' don't have to sleep in here. Could bunk with me. I'm just right down tha' hall."

"Daryl, are you trying to get me into bed?" she asked, letting the two glasses of wine take over. She looked up at his eyes. They were steel blue, piercing and beautiful. She touched his cheek, leaving her hand on his face for a long second.

"One of these days." he said. "When yer' begging. But not until yer' begging for it." he laughed.

"Oh, begging is it?" Hallie rolled her eyes. "Ladies don't beg. That's YOUR job." she said pushing him away with her hand playfully and opening the door to the bunk room. "See you in the morning, Mr. Dixon." she said and closed the door.

Daryl walked to his room. Lori watched from the end of one of the couches and nudged Rick. "Nope." she shook her head. "They really aren't." she said to the others.

"Well, then it's up to us." Rick pulled his wife to him and picked her up onto this lap. "Somebody's gotta christen this place." he said, kissing her on the lips. Shane couldn't watch. It was bad enough that Daryl Dixon had someone. Now Lori, his Lori, with Rick. He got up and walked to the guy's room without saying a word to anyone.

The next morning, the women were wide awake and well into their coffee, planning their day and readying breakfast. The man gathered to divide up into pairs to work on scouting the area. Daryl went to his room after breakfast and readied himself to go out into the woods in search of dinner. He was their designated hunter and no one in the group discouraged or deterred him.

There was a knock at the door. "Daryl." Hallie said softly.

"S'open."

She opened the heavy wooden door and stepped in. It smelled like Daryl already. He was sitting on a chair doing something to his bow, bent over and concentrating.

"You busy?" she asked. "If you are, it can wait."

"No."

"No what? No, you're busy I should come back later or no, I should stay?"

He looked up at her. "'m goin' out in a bit. Whatcha' want?"

She sat down on the air mattress on the floor and took a deep breath.

"I want to have some time with you alone tonight. So we can talk. Just the two of us? "

"Just talk? I dunno. Can ya do that? Just talk an' keep yer' hands off me?"

"Oh for shit sakes, Dixon, you are not the last man on earth. Get over yourself." she said, frustrated. She was trying to be serious and he wasn't helping. She was nervous and afraid of what he was going to have to say in the first place.

"Yeah, but you can count us on one hand now." he reminded her, grinning wickedly.

"Well, maybe you should be using that one hand on yourself more often." she said, popping up off the mattress and bolting out the door, slamming it behind her.

Daryl was dumbstruck. "What the fuck?" he said out loud, "I was jus' jokin! The hell did I do?" He shook his head and stroked the bow lovingly. "Women! Can't live with 'em, can't shoot 'em fer' sport."

He wandered down the hall to the main area, expecting to find Hallie on the couch pouting, but only Dale and Andrea were there.

"She went with the guys to the mess hall." Andrea said, knowingly. "Daryl" she added. "She's not a happy camper right now."

"Who the fuck IS?" he said, throwing open the front door and heading to the woods.

Daryl returned with a wild turkey and three rabbits. He proceeded to clean and dress them on a picnic table in the yard behind the admin building, trying to concentrate on the work, making sure not to knick himself with his knife. He tried not to think about Hallie. He took the game into the mess hall to find Hallie, Rick and T-Dog testing out the large gas stove. The large tank behind the building had been newly-filled in anticipation of a summer's-worth of meals for campers and they were all standing around watching T-Dog check the burners. Hallie squeaked a bit as one by one a blue-flame ring appeared at each.

He threw the turkey and rabbits on one of the tables and gruffly said "Here." He looked at Rick and T-Dog, but not Hallie, turning on his heels. He whipped around and pointed at her as he walked backward towards the door "...n' don't fuckin' dry out tha' turkey."

Hallie flipped him off. She was furious. What the hell did he mean by that? Doesn't have time to talk about something serious but he can tell her how to cook? Seriously? She walked over to a cabinet door, opened it, and slammed it has hard as she could. "Aaaarrrhh!" she yelled after him. "I don't need any squirrel-eatin' cracker-ass tellin' me how to roast a damn turkey!" as Rick and T looked on in amazement.

They ate their first meal in the mess hall that night. Daryl sat at the long table, across the table and over a couple spaces from Hallie. He could keep an eye on her but it wasn't like he had to look at her directly while he ate. She was hard to ignore. She had on snug-fitting jeans and a low-cut, plum-colored blouse which showed off her rounded breasts perfectly . Her hair fell in waves around her face and down her back. She had found some makeup and had put on mascara and pale violet shadow on her eyes, making them even more striking. It was hard not to forget he was mad and just stare at her.

"Hey, Daryl," Rick said with a smirk, "How's that turkey?" Hallie did her best to keep from sticking her tongue out at Rick. Daryl kept his eyes on his plate.

"S'ok." he said with no emotion. Hallie burned holes in his skull with her glare, hoping that he would spontaneously combust right there at the table.

"Real juicy and tender, huh?" T-Dog added to the teasing. "Moist, in fact!"

Daryl glared at him. He had eaten two helpings already and had intended to have a third. Damn Rick. He rose from the table and took his plate to the sink. "Had better." he lied and walked out of the room.

Hallie sat there, smoldering. "I'm sorry, Hallie," Rick said, patting her arm. "I was just teasing Daryl for being mean to you this afternoon. Don't be angry. You know the turkey was amazing."

She stood up. "Yeah, well if you ask me, we roasted the wrong damn turkey!" she said, walking out of the room without clearing her plate.


	9. Southern Comfort

**Gurl, Sara, Lucy and Bella-y'all are the best. Thanks for the reviews! (Gurl: LOL, Soon...I promise!)**

**I don't own or have any claims to the WD characters. If I did...if only...and I'm sure that the booze is trademarked or something...**

**Chapter Nine: Southern Comfort**

Hallie walked across the short drive from the mess hall to the administration building against her better judgment and breaking two of the new rules that Rick had laid down the day before. She was not only alone, but unarmed. She walked quickly in to the room that she was sharing with Andrea, Carol and Sophia and threw herself down on the bed, willing herself not to cry.

In a few seconds, she heard heavy footsteps on the porch, the door swing open and slam shut, and then footsteps coming down the hall. She put her hand down under the bed, where she kept the .22 that Rick had given her. Another door slammed shut. It was Daryl going to his room. A minute later, she heard his door open and footsteps again in the hall, this time stopping outside her door.

"Hallie Jane, get your ass out here right now." the voice bellowed from the other side of the door.

"What are you, my fuckin' father?" she yelled back. "Go away!"

"I'm serious, Woman, get yer' ass out here right now. Wanna talk to 'ya."

"I ain't your woman and I sure as hell ain't talking to you!"

"Suit yourself." Daryl hit the door hard and it swung open. He walked in carrying a full bottle of bourbon and a blanket. "I said git' up. We're gonna' talk." He walked over to the bed and pulled her up by the elbow. "Don't make me throw ya' over ma' shoulder 'n haul ya' outta here."

"You wouldn't dare!" she snapped. "I don't care what you do to me, I am not talking to you."

"Then ya' can jus' sit there." Daryl pulled her up from the bed with his free hand and half-dragged her out the door, kicking it closed with his foot and they started down the hall.

"What the fuck, Daryl? Stop it. I don't want to go. Please, stop. You're scaring me." Hallie pleaded, as he dragged her towards his room., the toes of her hiking boots scraping the wooden floor.

"I'll stop pullin' if you stop draggin' your feet and walk right. I ain't gonna' hurt ya' and ya' know that good an' damn well." He kicked open the door with the toe of his work boot and pushed her gently inside. "I was gonna' take ya' outside but yer liable ta' attract a fuckin' walker. This'll have ta' do."

Hallie spilled into the room and sat down in the chair next to the worktable, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Daryl threw the blanket down on the bed and uncapped the bottle, taking a long drink. "Damn!" he said, as the liquid fire made it's way to his full stomach. He passed the bottle to her and looked at her. She was so angry her green eyes looked almost black now. Her lips were clamped together and her cheeks were flushed. If looks could kill, Daryl figured he'd be deader than a door nail.

"Go on." he said, pointing the bottle at her.

Hallie took the bottle and downed a large swig, never making a face, not giving him a clue how badly the whiskey burned going down. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor, afraid to look into his.

"Now," he said, sitting down, cross-legged on the floor in front of her. "Couple more like those an' I reckon you'll be ready ta' talk." he grinned, taking another swig from the bottle himself.

After about a third of the bottle and more than enough uncomfortable silence, Daryl put a hand on Hallie's knee.

"Ya' know I don' wanna' fight." he said softly. "Hallie, talk ta' me. Tell me what ya' wanted ta' talk about this morning."

"It wasn't important. Forget about it." she said, her eyes unmoving. "It was stupid to bother you." The whiskey was starting to take effect. She could feel the warmth start to circulate through her now.

"Well, then, ya better get comfy. That sweet ass ain't leavin' that chair 'till you spit it out." he said, taking another gulp from the bottle.

They sat in silence for at several more minutes, passing the bottle back and forth between them, Daryl staring at Hallie and Hallie trying not to look at him.

Hallie was hot now, her stomach burned and she could feel the warmth rising from her neck. She knew she was dangerously close to being drunk. She looked at Daryl. He was sitting on his butt on the hard floor, bottle in one hand, chin on his other. He was just studying her. Looking straight at her. Damn, Damn, Damn, she thought. Stubborn s.o.b. A small tear escaped the corner of her eye and started to roll down her cheek. He reached up and wiped it away, moving closer.

She pressed her lip together, hoping it would shut herself up, but way too much Southern Comfort had loosened her up. She turned her head to one side and looked at the wall.

"Fuck." she said, biting her lip. "I just wanted to ask you..." another tear rolling, "to ask you about... us."

"Shit." he said. "No wonder you're mad at me." He sat the bottle beside him and sat up on his knees, meeting her eye to eye.

Daryl took a deep breath. The Southern Comfort had loosened him up too. He'd normally not be as open about feelings. He'd normally not even acknowledge he HAD feelings. But this was Hallie and dear God, did he have feelings.

"I was serious when I said what I said last night." he started. "I ain't gonna pressure ya or push ya in ta' somethin' ya' ain't ready for." he said, stroking her hair. "Ya' know how I feel about ya'. I know ya' do. I think ya' feel tha' same way 'bout me, too. I'm responsible for ya' now. I got ya outta that cell, away from those bastards. Ya' got ta' take yer' time an' when yer' ready, you'll come ta' me. You're mine, 's far as I see it. I ain't in no hurry."

The tears were rolling down her cheeks now. "Oh." she said in a tiny voice. "Are you sure it's not the Southern Comfort talking now?" she asked.

"Pretty sure 'tis, otherwise I'da' just grunted like a cave man." he laughed, trying to get her to stop crying. "Ya' know I ain't much on conversation."

"Yeah, I picked up on that on the way here in the truck." she smiled.

"This mean yer' not mad at me no more?" he asked, kissing her forehead.

"No. I'm not sure I really was even mad. I was scared. I think..." her breath catching in her chest, "I think I was afraid I was going to find out you...didn't..." her voice trailed off.

"No fuckin' chance." he said. "Besides. We have ta' be together." he smiled, pulling her chin up to look into her eyes. "We both hate Shane."

Hallie smiled. Daryl brushed a hair out of her eyes and stood up, pulling Hallie him. He put his arms around her waist and hugged her, burying his face in her hair. Her arms were around his shoulders. Daryl scooped her up under her knees and carried her to the mattress and laid her down gently. He laid down next to her and cradled her in his arms. "Hallie." he breathed in her scent. "Turkey and bourbon's a bad combination." he yawned. He kissed her shoulder gently and closed his eyes. Within a minute, Hallie heard him snoring softly. She closed her eyes and let herself drift off with him.

The next morning, Daryl woke up first. He looked at Hallie, curled against him, her long hair spilling on his arms and chest. Now THIS is how ya' should wake up every morning, Dixon, he thought, with a beautiful woman in yer' bed. The little voice in his head that sounded like Merle whispered "be better if she were nekked." He carefully extracted himself from the sleeping bag and changed shirts, grabbing his bow and a handful of arrows, and crept out of the room as quietly as his boots would allow, trying not to wake her. He needed coffee and a good trek through the woods to, as he was want to say, process things.

Hallie woke up with a jolt and realized she was alone and not where she should be in the room with Andrea and Sophia and Carol. Her head pounded and she realized where she was. She did a quick assessment. Jeans still on, bra in order, everything in place- it certainly didn't FEEL like they had messed around. She sat up and looked around. Daryl's crossbow was missing. He was hunting.

She made the bed, or rather pulled the sleeping bag up, removing the wrinkles, and fluffed up the pillows and laid them neatly across one end. She tiptoed down the hall and into her own room, changing clothes and running a brush through her hair. This is going to be awkward, but it's gotta be done, she told herself and left the room for the mess hall to get coffee.

When she walked in, thankfully the kitchen area was deserted, except for Glenn. He grinned sheepishly and said "I hear you and Daryl made up." he said, handing her a cup.

"Sorta." she said. "We passed out with our clothes on, so please, assure everyone that the only noises they heard from Daryl's room last night was him snoring."

"So, Hallie, I gotta' ask," he said, "What's the attraction?"

Hallie sat down at the table across from Glenn and took a big sip of black coffee. "Glenn, I'll tell ya." she said, "Daryl's a Linkin Park song."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He's hard, he's fast, he's loud and scary and at first you don't think you're gonna like him and before you know it, you're humming the tune to yourself and you can't get him out of your head because there's so much reality just right in your face." she sat her cup down. "That...is Daryl Dixon."


	10. Needs and Desires

**Aww, you guys are the best with the reviews, there. Hang on, Ladies, we're almost "there..."**

**Don't own or claim any rights to any ice cream brands or the WD characters, other than the right to dream of doing bad things to Daryl Dixon...and he'd love every minute of it!  
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**Chapter 10 Needs and Desires**

Over course of the next two weeks, while Hallie spent her nights in the girls' room, she and Daryl spent most their evenings together in Daryl's room. They talked about a lot of things some nights and didn't talk at all others. It was not unusual for one of the group to walk by and see Daryl cleaning his bow or sharpening tips at the table and Hallie laying on her stomach on his bed, knees bent, ankles crossed in the air, reading a book with no words passing between them.

On the nights that they did talk, it was quiet and intimate, usually with them knee to knee on the bed. Daryl found out about Hallie's past. She was an only child. Her parents had died when she was very young and she was raised by a very straight-laced Baptist grandmother outside of Atlanta. She moved away to go to college and study history. She stayed in Louisville when she was offered a job after graduation. When her grandmother passed, she returned to Atlanta to put her the woman's affairs in order and was there when the contagion hit. She'd had three boyfriends, one cheating fiance and two one-night stands. Her favorite drink was tequila and she was somewhat of a pool shark.

Daryl, on the other hand, was a tough nut to crack. He didn't like talking about himself or his family. His older brother Merle raised him for the most part, after their mother died when he was seven and their father, well, he an abusive, alcoholic son-of-a-bitch who's parenting style was pretty much non-existent. They were from the wrong side of the tracks in a small town where everyone knew their business and expected both Merle and Daryl to turn out like their old man. Daryl quipped once that Merle made it his mission to live down to folks' expectations. Merle was a lot like their father, but Hallie could tell from the way Daryl talked that he and Merle were close.

Daryl had not had a great many "meaningful" relationships, mostly one-night-stands and short-term flings. He didn't finish high school, dropping out at 17, but he did manage to get his G.E.D. He excelled in shop and worked construction and as a mechanic. He'd been in jail a couple times, mostly for bar fights and a small misunderstanding with a car title few years ago. His favorite drink was anything in a bottle and he told Hallie while he enjoyed a game of pool every once in a while, he'd rather have sex on a pool table than use it for what it was intended, which sent Hallie into a fit of giggles, admonishing him for "messing up the felt."

Daryl told Hallie that he, Rick, T-Dog, Glenn and Shane had decided they going to scout some of the towns and gated subdivisions nearby and check out what they could find. If things worked they would be doing this a couple times a week. Under normal circumstances, this would have been called looting but nowadays, it was sheer survival. They had found a map of the immediate area and there were promising several areas that were not far.

"I want to go with you." she said flatly.

"Fuck no! " Daryl shook his head. "

"Daryl, I known how to use a gun and one more person carrying stuff can't hurt." she argued.

"That's exactly why you're staying here. Rick thinks you can handle anything here if something should come up. "

"Oh and WHY would he think THAT? He's never seen me shoot before, Mr. We-Can't-Afford-to-Waste-the-Ammunition, how would HE know if I could hit the broad side of a barn?" She was starting to get a little peeved that they'd even had this discussion without her.

Daryl laughed out loud. "Well," he said hesitantly, "the gist of it was that if you can stand up ta' me, ya can hold yer own with pretty near anythin' else that comes along." he said grinning from ear to ear. "Hear talk, I'm a' handful."

Hallie laughed and sat next to him on the mattress. "Yes, you certainly are." she agreed. "So when do you guys start doing this?"

"Tomorrow. Glenn's got a map all made up already."

The next morning, the Ladies-Only Coffee Club, as they had dubbed it, was in full swing. They were a bit louder and more boisterous than usual, nervous about the men leaving.

"I'd sell my soul for chocolate chip mint ice cream." Carol sighed. "I really miss ice cream." They all agreed that frozen treats were sorely missing in their diet. "And not that low-carb, no-sugar, healthy crap, either...we're talking Dove Bars and Hagen Das!" Lori insisted.

"Not me," Andrea said. "I miss standing under a hot shower for as long as I want. You know, getting really pruned-up and wrinkly. No, wait. What I REALLY miss is my hot tub!"

"You had a hot tub?" Carol said incredulously. "Wow, I've never been in a hot tub before. I always wanted to!" The four discussed the merits of hot tubs and decided they desperately needed to figure out how they could build one...for women only, they quipped. No guys allowed.

"What about you Hallie? What do you miss the most?" Lori asked.

" Easy. Chocolate!" she said closing her eyes. "I don't know what it is, but there is a definite shortage of chocolate in this apocalypse. I think," she said sanding up and raising her finger skyward, "No, make that I WOULD...," she continued, "I would promise sexual favors to the first man who brings me chocolate." The women hooted loudly at her declaration.

"I'll bet you wouldn't!" Andrea snorted she as laughing so hard. "I don't think a certain someone would go for that!" he said. Andrea never missed an opportunity to probe Hallie about her relationship with Daryl.

"Oh, no, that promise goes for ANY of 'em. Chocolate. That's what I want. For Christ sakes, do they not understand hormones around here? A woman's got NEEDS," Hallie continued. "and one of 'em is chocolate, by God!"

Rick and Shane walked in. "Did I hear something about hormones?" he grinned.

"Yeah, Rick, you men better watch out. You get a bunch of us women living together and pretty soon we're all on the same cycle and the walkers will start to look mild in comparison!" Hallie teased. "Lord help you men-folk!" The women were laughing hysterically now.

"Thanks for the warning, Ladies!" Rick joked. He announced that the four men were ready to leave and they rose and walked outside to the waiting trucks. "Everybody stays inside the Admin. building with the door locked. Hallie, you know what to do if there's any trouble. Shoot first and don't even bother asking questions. Dale will be with you. Keep an eye out but don't leave the porch. We'll be back as soon as we can, definitely before it gets dark."

Lori and Rick hugged as Hallie walked over to Daryl's beat-up truck. She looked at him and gave him a wistful smile.

"Be careful. Watch your ass." she said to him, as they walked to the driver's side. Daryl stopped and turned to her, pulling her to him, his arms around her waist.

"I'm comin' back." he said, bending her slightly backwards. Daryl moved in and kissed Hallie on the lips softly, tenderly at first, then with more urgency as he pulled her in closer. She closed her eyes and put her arms around his neck, feeling a warmth spread through her in several places, returning the kiss as the group looked on in amazement.

Daryl loosened his grip on Hallie's waist and stepped back, sliding into the truck and slamming the door. "What tha' hell, people, les' GO!" he yelled.

T-Dog punched Shane on the arm as he rounded the jeep to get in. "Why don't you ever kiss me like that?" he said, trying to break the tension about the four men leaving.

The trips into town continued for another couple weeks. They were successful and resulted in more food, clothing, weapons and tools for the group. Creature comforts that they took for granted just a few months ago were treated as luxuries when they were discovered- soap, shampoo, laundry detergent, an i-pod, toys for Sophia and Carl.

Daryl discovered a large supply of personal care items for the ladies- lotions, razors, make-up, much-coveted deodorant, shampoos-which made him feel pretty much like the big dog around camp for a while, especially with the girls. The squeals when he dumped the two duffle bags of items on the table in the mess hall that afternoon reminded him of high school girls. Andrea was so thrilled that she'd awkwardly hugged him.

On the trip back, he had rifled through one of the bags smelling some of the items, picking out his favorites for Hallie. He put a few things in a separate bag, tied it up and snuck it up to her room, leaving it on her pillow as a surprise. He was disappointed when she didn't use it that evening, instead saying that it was too special, she would save it for just the right time. When she said thank you, she had welled up, touched by his thoughtfulness. Daryl was a bit disappointed, hoping to get close enough to see what it smelled like, or better yet, what her skin felt like, when she was wearing it.

Three days had passed since their last foray to scavenge and the men decided since it was raining, there was no reason to make a trip for a couple days. Everyone busied themselves with their normal routine, including Daryl, who chose to take off to the woods to find something for dinner.

Hallie stood in the doorway of the mess hall and watched him walk off, his strides quick and strong, cross bow slung across his back. She watched his perfect butt moving in the faded jeans as he walked away from her. More and more she was getting that aching feeling when she looked at him and when he looked back with those steely blue eyes of his, she felt herself melting. Halfway down the drive he turned around, walking backwards now, and grinned.

"You're looking at ma' ass, ain't cha'?" he called.

"Looking at AN ass, more like it!" she retorted.

"Yeah, but ya' love me!" he yelled, as he turned once more and continued towards the woods.

Well, Hallie said to herself, that I do. Maybe time to show you just how much, Daryl Dixon.


	11. Making Good on a Promise

**_Warning: Impending Smut. This is a rework of the one-shot that started this whole thing...  
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_**Rated M for implied smut and a couple cuss words...and everything else I imagine when I think of a certain cross-bow-wielding redneck.**_

_**Chapter 11 Making Good on a Promise  
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Hallie knocked softly at the heavy wooden door of the small office which served as his bedroom. Daryl Dixon's Man Cave, as she had teased him once. Damn it. He had better be here, she thought. She noticed he ate dinner more quickly than usual tonight. He stood up abruptly, kissed her softly on the top of the head and whispered "Meet me in my room in a' hour. Gotta' a surprise I think you're gonna' like." As he walked quickly out the door of the dining hall, Daryl had looked at Rick and pointed his finger. The dark-haired man nodded, glancing in Hallie's direction, and then returned to his plate.

Turning the brass knob, she pushed it open gently. "Daryl?" No answer. She cautiously pushed the door open a few inches further, just enough to see into the room a bit. It was dark- only-a faint, wavering light coming from a source behind the door. The large mattress against the wall, neatly covered in a sleeping bag, with two pillows at one end. She could make out the square work table at the foot of the mattress, his duffle bag on top, it's contents invisible. In the dim light, Hallie could make out a few items on the table-cleaning solvent, dirty rags, large hunting knife, a handful of arrows, their sharp steel points gleaming, a canteen, a coil of rope and what appeared to be an unopened bottle of Southern Comfort, easily recognizable in the flickering light. A large crossbow leaned against the table. She knew now he was in the room for certain.

"Daryl." she said again, this time a bit more firmly, without the question in her voice. She pushed the door open further and as it swung back into the room, she could see him. Her heart skipped a beat. He was sitting in the middle of the room, on top of an old comforter. A small folding camp table was at the edge of the blanket, a squat white candle on top of the table was responsible for flickering light that bathed the immediate area in a soft glow.

He sat motionless on the blanket, cross-legged, watching her enter the room and pull the door shut behind her with a soft clunk. She stopped to let her eyes adjust to the dim light. He slowly cocked his head sideways and his lips curled into a slight grin, one corner of his mouth drawing up. "I knew you'd come." he smiled. The light from the candle made his skin glow and his crystal blue eyes twinkled even more than usual. Every time she looked at him she fell in love with him all over again. How could she not love him- he was the only reason she was alive.

"Ok, why do I feel like you're a spider and I'm the fly?" Hallie looked at him and took a small step further into the room.

"Door ain't locked." he stared at her, knowing full well she wasn't going anywhere, his eyes never leaving her face, never blinking.

"Why are you smirking at me? What's this big surprise? What am I going to like?" She put her hands on her hips.

Daryl looked down to his hand in the darkness of his lap and grinned even wider. He slowly raised his hand, revealing it's contents. He looked into her eyes again. He didn't want to miss any of it- the recognition of what he'd found, the look on her face when she realized he'd heard them giggling like schoolgirls over what they missed most since the outbreak . He especially wanted to see her face when it dawned on her that he was now in possession of the one simple thing she'd mentioned when it was her turn.

After he'd carried her nearly lifeless body back to camp, she slept for four days straight. He was sitting on the floor beside the bed when she finally opened her eyes. He hadn't moved the whole time she slept and he knew he looked as rough as he felt. He remembered how she had looked straight at him, no fear or mistrust, and smiled, a single tear running down the side of her bruised cheek. In the weeks that followed, he came to realize quickly that her face, especially her eyes, was her "tell." She was an open book, he could tell exactly what she was feeling and thinking. All he had to do was look into her face. All he ever wanted to do was look at her.

Hallie's heart skipped another beat. . Her eyes, until now locked with his, squinted and looked at his hand. She could make out a familiar dark brown rectangle with faint block lettering on the wrapper. As he continued to raise his hand towards her, her eyes opened wide. "Bingo" he thought to himself. The realization of what was holding set in with her. A Hershey bar. A God-damned Hershey Bar! It had been months since she'd had any chocolate and her mouth began to water uncontrollably.

Daryl slowly waggled the bar and said "Want some? Now? Do ya want it?" emphasizing the "want" slowly and dramatically, drawing out the vowel sounds and making the "now" almost two syllables. His face was beaming but when she looked at his eyes, they smoldered, the flame from the candle reflected in the deep, clear blue.

He watched her bite her lower lip as she stared at him, her eyes wide. Daryl had admitted to himself weeks ago that he was in love with her. He was sure her feelings for him mirrored his own, but he had made a promise to himself that after what she'd been through, he would go slow, letting her come to him. With each passing day they spent together, it became more difficult. She was the first thing he thought of when he woke up in the morning and the last thought when he closed his eye at night. In between night and day, there were the dreams of her.

Hallie took two small steps toward the blanket. "You. Heard. Us." she whispered, pausing between each words. "You were spying. You rat bastard! You heard everything!"

"Yep" he said matter-of-factly, looking at the bar in his hand. "I heard it all. Kinda' hard NOT ta' hear ya' wommen' cackling and cutting' up. " He dropped his hand, letting the prized possession fall to the blanket softly. "But if ya' really don't want this, I reckon I could find somebody else who'd be in-ter-es-ted." he said, exaggerating the last word into four slow syllables, taking full advantage of the drawl she once told him she thought was so sexy.

"NO!" she said loudly, before she could catch herself. Crap, she thought, he knows and now he's gonna' hold this over me. "Don't be thick, Darryl. You know I do. You obviously heard-."

"Oh, what was tha' phrase?" He interrupted her, leaning forward, "Sump'thin' about 'sexual favors for the first guy ta' bring you chocolate?' Wasn't that it?" he said, his voice low and rough. He was thoroughly enjoying this.

She blushed uncontrollably, her red cheeks visible even in the dim candlelight. She knew he heard her but she didn't for a minute think he would hold her to it, not Darryl. There had been so many times they were together and he could have taken advantage, made his move. They had even talked about it once. Their physical relationship never progressed beyond a couple kisses-albeit they were breath-taking, heart-stopping, curl-your-toes kisses.

"So let's hear it." she said, her voice wavering slightly. "What are you expecting? You think I'm going to sleep with you for a candy bar? Is that it?" She took a step closer to him, trying to appear bold and sure of herself-hoping that he didn't have a clue that lately her feelings had become much clearer to her- lately it wouldn't have taken anything much more from him than a look, a touch, a word for her to be his.

She was close enough now to notice his scent. She breathed in deeply, willing herself not to close her eyes and reach for him. Daryl smelled like no other man she'd ever met, a heady combination of leather, motor oil and cigarettes, wood smoke and occasionally bourbon. It was the smell that comforted her the most, helped her sleep, calmed her fears. Tonight, though, was not his usual scent-this was a clean smell, light, like…soap. She looked at his brown hair, the way it was softer, lighter, the way it moved when he did, the candle making the lighter brown highlights around his face visible even in the dark. The usual stubble on his cheeks was gone. Shave and a shower. He'd disappeared after dinner so quickly- this was what he was up to. Daryl Dixon had fucking cleaned up for this!

He stood up slowly, rising to his knees, leaning towards her. He was close now. He reached out to her and wrapped his fingers gently around her wrist, pulling her closer. His fingers felt hot on her skin. Hallie was sure he could read her thoughts, positive he could feel her pulse racing as he held her wrist. He pulled down slowly on her wrist as he reached his other hand out and up to her elbow as she knelt in front of him on the blanket. He took her hands in his and looked down into her eyes.

Daryl didn't know how long he could look at her without losing himself. She was wearing a deep green t-shirt that made her own green eyes even more striking. He loved her eyes, the way they seemed to change hues with her mood, the flecks of blue and gold in the iris, the long dark lashes. He ran a hand down her hair, tangling his fingers in the loose curls. Daryl never missed an opportunity to touch her hair- it was the first thing he had noticed about her in that jail cell, locked way, caged like an animal, beaten and battered. Tonight, her dark red hair spilled over her shoulders front and back, its curls cascading like a waterfall. Thick, dark auburn, almost chestnut brown, but when the sun hit it, it looked like tiny strands of copper wire ran all though the curls. It was long- dangerously long. Too easy for a walker to grab on to and then he'd lose her forever. He warned her about keeping it up, a warning she heeded unless they were together. After dinner, when they'd talk together, just two of them in the safety of his room, she'd take it down, letting it tumble down her back to her waist. He raised a handful and breathed in.

On their last trip to town, the jackpot find of a closet chock-full of what he teasingly called "girly stuff," in addition to an unopened 12-pack of Hershey bars, had apparently brought Daryl only more unintended torture. The house must have belonged to a horder, he joked, or, "one of them ex-treme coupon-ers." Stuff was stored everywhere-canned goods, cereal, dried pasta, cleaning supplies, in every cabinet, drawer, under every bed. The men made several trips, loaded for bare each time. He had separated out the "girl stuff" he thought smelled the best-honey-almond shampoo and conditioner and something called "warm vanilla sugar " body scrub and lotion. He had given them to her wrapped in a brown bag with a small scrap of blue ribbon he'd found. She cried she was so touched by his kindness, but she squirreled them away, saying she they were too special- she would save them for "the perfect occasion."

Tonight at dinner, when Daryl sat down next to her, he immediately noticed the extra shine of her hair and how she smelled- sweet and warm, inviting. Delicious. When he told her she smelled like a cookie just out of the oven, she had leaned in extra close and smiled at him, her green eyes dancing. "Thanks to you." she whispered.

Daryl cleared his throat. "I told ya' before. I'm not gonna rush ya'. When you're ready, you'll come ta' me," he said, lifting her hand gently and kissing her palm. He looked at her with a sudden wicked gleam in his eye. "And" he paused, "remember- you're gonna beg me." His words hung in the still of the room, the only sound the sputtering candle on the table.

She tried to swallow, but her mouth was suddenly dry. "Daryl, did you give anybody else any chocolate?" She desperately wanted to change the subject.

He signed deeply. "Yeah, after dinner, I slipped Rick the rest of tha' box I found and made him promise that everybody would leave us tha' hell alone. They're prob'ly in the kitchen eatin' it all up right now." She was touched that he had thought to share the treasure, even if his motives weren't totally altruistic. Their absence would be conspicuous and there would be comments and a generous amount of questions from Andrea, Lori and Carol.

After a very pregnant pause, she gave in and broke the deafening silence. "So what's it gonna cost me then?" she said weakly.

Daryl sat back down on his heels, dropping his hands to his lap.

"Sit." he said flatly.

"No. Tell me first, so I can run if I need to" she said, only half-jokingly.

Daryl remained silent, never moving his eyes from hers. He gestured for her to sit.

"All right." She shook her head and sat down, crossing her legs in front of her, pulling on the hem of her jean-shorts. There were a few scars still visible on her thighs and she was self-conscious.

She was closer than ever and all Daryl could think about was the scent of the lotion she'd used-heavy and sweet, sugar and vanilla- what he'd found for her. His imagination lept to an image of her, still damp from the shower, slowly rubbing the creamy white lotion on her legs, arms, shoulders, her skin pale and smooth.

"Daryl." He blinked away with a sheepish look. "What do I have to do?" she asked, brushing a wayward strand across her forehead before it fell into her eyes.

"Nothin'."

"Seriously. What?" A slight impatient tone building.

"You don't have to do nothin'. I'm. I…" he hesitated uncharacteristically. Maybe this was not such a good idea. Daryl Dixon was not used to being flustered, especally around women. He'd had his share, sure, but none made him feel like she did. None of them had ever made him feel, well, loved.

"WHAT? You WHAT? Am I naked? Are you naked? What are you up to?" The volume and pitch in her voice raised and she gestured wildly with her hands. A good part of her really didn't want to know what he was going to say next.

"I get ta' feed it to ya'." he said. "That's all. Nobody's naked. No foolin' around. I just wanna watch ya'…eat it."

She looked up at him through raised eyebrows. She could feel the heat rising from her chest, her breath becoming heavier, her face flushing again. She put a hand over her heart, hoping that it would muffle the sound of it beating wildly. "That's all?" she tried to cover her nervousness. "Piece of cake." Her voice cracked on the last word. She was a horrible liar.

"Not cake. Hershey Bar." Daryl grinned and picked up the chocolate bar from the blanket. He scooted up closer, his now-crossed legs folded under him, his knees touching hers, her bare skin against the soft worn fabric of his faded green army fatigues. He dwarfed her- he was a full foot taller and at least 50 pounds heavier. She looked him in the glow of the candlelight. The shadows made his features sharper, highlighting his jaw line, strong nose, square shoulders. His shirt was not his usual plaid button-down with the sleeves cut off. Tonight he was wearing a black t-shirt. It was close-fitting and she could see every ripple and curve of his chest and stomach muscles. The sleeves were short, exposing his heavily muscled arms. He was thinner than he should be, which gave even more definition to his frame. He was incredible to look at.

Daryl slid off the outer brown wrapper, methodically unfolding the silver inner lining to expose the chocolate. He carefully broke off a single square from the end and held it up to her, leaning in close enough she could feel his breath as he said "Sit on yer' hands so ya' can't touch me."

"'Fraid I'm gonna snatch it and not share?" she laughed.

"No," he said without emotion. "I know ya' won't. I'd turn ya' over my knee and spank yer' bare ass." The coolness of his voice told her he was done playing. She tucked her hands under her knees and looked up at him, wide-eyed, his sudden intensity almost frightening her.

"There." she said, blinking several times. "Ready now?"

"No." he said quietly. "Close yer' eyes." he whispered.

"Daryl, stop. Please? You're not going to do anything…you're not going to make me..." her voice trailed off, too embarrassed to say the words she was thinking. "Why do you want me to close my eyes?"

"Relax. " He said softly. "I'm not gonna do anything but watch ya' eat this here candy bar. God's honest promise." he said, raising his right hand. "I know what ya' think I'm gonna' do and I wouldn't do THAT." He paused briefly. "Lessn' you want me to…now that's a diff'rent story!" He was grinning now like the Cheshire cat as his blue eyes twinkled.

"Swear?"

"I swear." he said quietly. He started to swear on his brother's life, but remembering that he didn't know if Merle was alive, dead or worse, thought better of it. He sure didn't want to think about it right now. Not now. Not when she was so close he could feel the heat radiating from her, making the sugar and vanilla smell now even more irresistible to him. Cookies, he thought again. He inhaled deeply. Sugar cookies, no less. He wanted to devour her just from the scent alone.

"Alright" she said. Hallie sat up straight and closed her eyes slowly. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly and she inhaled deeply and let out the breath. "Alright."

Daryl slowly moved the square under her small, freckled nose and said "Breathe." She followed his direction and inhaled deeply, letting the smell of chocolate fill her lungs. Her head moved back and an almost imperceptible smile briefly crossed her face.

"Oh. Goodness." she said in a tiny voice. "Oh. My. Oh, that smells wonderful." Her mouth started to water again. "You're killing me here."

"Open." he said. She opened her mouth slightly. Darrl looked down into her face. Her soft perfect lips were slightly open, eyes closed, her dark lashes resting on her lower lids. The delicate features of her face, framed with the long, cascading curls reminded him of an angel. She was his angel.

He gently placed the single rectangle of chocolate between Hallie's lips, making sure it went inside but being careful not to touch her lips with his fingers. Not yet. Her mouth closed slowly and she pressed her lips together. "Mmmm." She chewed carefully, once, twice, now a third time, making sure her lips stayed together so as not to lose a bit of the precious chocolate. She stopped chewing and let the melting chocolate rest on her tongue. She chewed a few more times, obviously enjoying the taste, and swallowed slowly. "Darryl Dixon, you are a god. That was beyond description."

"That was only yer' first piece" he laughed.

"Yeah, but how long's it been? I'd almost forgotten what chocolate tastes like. Oh my God was that good! You HAVE to have some of this. Daryl, come on!" she exclaimed. "Can I open my eyes now?"

"Nope. Not until I say so. But ya' can open your mouth again…and hush up, Woman."

She pressed her eyelids together tighter and opened her mouth, again savoring the tiny rectangle of rich, chocolaty goodness that he gently placed between her lips. "Oh Damn." Hallie whispered after she'd held out as long as she could before swallowing. Daryl didn't hear. He was totally engrossed in watching in the tiny movements her lips and chin made as she chewed slowly, the way her forehead furrowed slightly as she fought the urge to be quick and gobble the morsel, the way her neck muscles jumped as she swallowed. At this point, Daryl couldn't say who was enjoying the chocolate more.

"Nod if yer' ready for another bite." he said, bending off third piece. The warmth of his hands was causing the chocolate to become soft. She nodded slowly and deliberately and as she did, she did something unconsciously that caused Daryl Dixon to nearly lose all control. Her lips curled inward slightly and her tongue appeared, licking her top lip from left to right and then back again across her bottom lip. Now not only were they perfect, they glistened in the candlelight. He could smell the deep, rich chocolate on her breath as Hallie exhaled and opened her mouth slowly. Darryl took the piece of chocolate between his fingers and placed it on her still moist bottom lip, letting it rest there instead of slipping it inside. He moved it in the same direction as her tongue had moved-side to side, only slowly, leaving a trail of melted chocolate across her bottom lip. He then slid the barely-solid chocolate back to the other side and tenderly pushed what was left inside to her tongue. A faint bit of saliva, tinged brown with chocolate, escaped the side of her mouth. He could see her breath hitch and she closed her lips together tightly. Hallie shifted a knee and raised her hand to wipe the corner of her mouth and he stopped her, catching her hand in mid air.

"Nuh-uh. No hands." he said, his hand still holding hers in mid air. She shuddered slightly. He kissed the back of her hand slowly and set it gently into her lap. She felt goosebumps rise slightly on her forearms. He leaned forward moving the hair from the front of her shoulder to her back and whispered into her ear "Had enough yet?"

"No." she said without hesitation. Daryl took a piece and put it between her lips and held it there for a second. She closed her lips but he didn't let go. Her brow furrowed. "Mmm-mmm." she protested, the bar between her lips. When he did let go, the chocolate had melted so that a bit from this finger slid slightly down past her lip. Without thinking, he curled his fingers on her jaw and slowly slid his thumb across her lip, swiping the brown smear away, only to leave his thumb resting on the middle of her bottom lip. Hallie opened her mouth and kissed his thumb, pulling it into her mouth and closing her lips around it. Darryl's' next breath caught in his lungs and he could feel the blood pounding in his ears…and elsewhere. She ran her tongue over his thumb and pulled softly backwards as she let it slide out from between her lips. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath quickly.

He tried to speak but his lips were dry and his mind was a blank. He opened his eyes and looked down at her face. God, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Her eyes were still closed. Her cheeks were flushed. This is what making love to her is going to be like.

Hallie bit her bottom lip and swallowed roughly. "More" she said weakly.

Darryl broke off two pieces together this time and set the remainder beside him on the wrapper. She could feel him move even closer, she could feel the heat from his body and the fresh scent of the soap he'd used. She knew he was barely inches from her, feeling his breath when he exhaled. "Open" he said once more and once more she complied. Hallie's lips parted. This time Darryl put one end of the piece between his own lips and brought the other end to hers. She knew something was different this time. Resistance. She knew instantly what he had done. She could feel his face so near, hear his jagged breathing.

She bit off a tiny piece, letting the chocolate slide between her lips and disappear. Then another tiny piece. The third piece brought her lips to his and she swallowed, without moving an inch. His hands were on her knees now and she moved hers up, finding his shoulders. His lips were warm against hers. She tasted wonderfully- sweet and rich, the chocolate still strong in her mouth. As they kissed, her lips opened more and his tongue moved slowly, deliberately. Hallie moaned softly and opened her eyes, her head rolling back slightly as he kissed her again, this time more passionately, more urgently. His hands moved up to circle her waist. Her head dropped back further and her hair fell away, exposing her neck. His lips moved down, tenderly kissing a line up the muscle from her shoulder to just under her ear. He could feel her nails digging into his shoulders, her stomach muscles tightening as her breathing quickened. She moaned again softly. "Daryl..." her voice raspy. "Daryl. They were both on their knees now. She opened her eyes halfway as he drew away to look at her. His hands moved slowly upwards, now under her shirt, her silky skin hot to his touch. She felt a single bead of sweat roll down between her breasts and dissolve into the band of her bra. She reached her hands up, one to the back of his neck, the other to his hair and pulled his lips towards her own. "I'm begging you." Hallie whispered.


	12. Opening Act

**CONTENT WARNING! Rated M!**

**Ok, here it is...the full-on naughty parts! Please tell me what you think. This was very difficult to write... (blushes) but definitely not altogether unpleasant to imagine!**

**Don't own Walking Dead or any of it's characters, because, I'd just pro'lly do something along these lines with one of 'em:  
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**Chapter 12: Opening Act**

Daryl pulled away, letting his hands travel down Hallie's stomach , slowly running his fingers around the inside of her waistband.

"Again" he whispered roughly. "Say it again."

"I'm begging you. Daryl. Please." she moaned, as she put her head on his chest.

"Ya' sure?" His throat was dry and he could barely speak.

Hallie nodded and moved her hands to his face. "Yes." she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'm sure."

Daryl sat down and pulled her on to his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist and could immediately feel how much he wanted her. Slowly, carefully, he pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. He drew in a sharp breath and let it out slowly as he looked at her body. Grasping a handful of her thick hair, he pulled gently, raising her face to him. Kissing her on the lips again, his tongue snaked down her neck, this time stopping at her breast, cupping it gently with his hand and making small circles over and around her nipple. The sensation caused her to moan and arch her back, moving her even closer to his mouth.

With his other hand, he caressed the small of her back, his fingers gently stroking her skin. Hallie pulled at the hem of his shirt impatiently, desperate to feel his warmth against her. Daryl stopped long enough to pull his shirt own off and throw it on the pile with hers. He began kissing her again, his mouth open, tongue darting, exploring. His hands were everywhere at once, her back, her hips, caressing her breasts, running through her hair.

Daryl supported Hallie as he rose, her legs still wrapped around his waist. He moved to the bed and gently laid her down on her back, easing himself on top of her. He resumed kissing her, this time with more eagerness. His hips pressed into hers slowly and rhythmically as she tightened her legs around him. He put his forehead to hers and whispered "Mine" roughly as his hands swiftly unbuttoned her shorts and his fingers reached inside her panties.

Hallie moaned his name and unlocked her ankles from his waist as Daryl rolled to his side and slid her shorts down her hips and off her silky legs, tossing them to the side. He shucked his fatigues as best he could in his excited state and rolled over again, his thighs on either side of hers. He paused a moment to look at her, stretched out beside him, eyes closed, her long hair a tangle around her shoulders. He slowly ran his fingers down both of her legs at the same time, moving from her thighs to her ankles and gently scratching his nails on the return trip, as she gasped. He shook his head in disbelief that this woman was in his bed, calling his name, about to surrender herself to him.

Hallie opened her eyes to find Daryl looking at her. He bent forwards and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw. Long, lingering kisses with lips that felt like fire on her skin. She closed her eyes again and smiled, making a "mmm" sound, as he worked his way to her earlobe and bit gently.

"Say it." he hissed. "Tell me."

"Please...Daryl," she looked into his eyes. They were locked on to hers, burning with intensity in the faint candlelight. Daryl's heavy breath was irregular and she could feel him hard against her on the top of her thigh. "I need you. Now, Baby." she whispered. She put her hands on his hips and pressed into him. It was all Daryl needed.

He moved one knee between Hallie's thighs and parted her legs carefully, lowering himself to her, entering her slowly, cautiously. He lifted her leg up, wrapping it around his hip as he began to gently thrust. Hallie held on to his shoulders as they rocked together in unison. She let out a small whimper each time he pressed. He pulled slowly out of her as far as he dared and pushed in more quickly as he moved deeper with each stroke, keeping a steady rhythm to his movements. Hallie let go of his shoulders and grasped his at thighs, her breath quicker now, arching her back to meet him. "Daryl" she moaned, "I...I'm...Oh my God..."

Daryl rose to his knees, holding her by the hips and pulling her up to him. He lowered his head and a growling sound came from his throat as he quickened his pace. Hallie was whimpering by now and he knew she was almost ready. He could feel her tightening around him. He supported her lower back and placed his thumb between the two of them, rubbing little circles right on her most sensitive spot. He could feel how close she was now as he matched the movement of his thumb with his thrusts. Daryl was almost there too and he quickened his movements even more, grasping her now by her hips, his thumbs on top, fingers digging into the flesh of her perfect round ass. Hallie put her forearm over her mouth and muffled a scream. Daryl's breath caught in his chest as they both came simultaneously, Hallie's body shuddering with each of his final thrusts, while Daryl's body convulsed forcefully with his release.

He closed his eyes and shook his head from side to side. Pulling her upright to his chest, he wrapped her in his arms, kissing her hard on the lips for what seemed an eternity. He grinned, his clear, blue eyes twinkling. "Fuck me sideways!" he said breathlessly.

Hallie up at him as Daryl unconsciously rocked his hips against her, the movement small and gentle, still staying inside. She ran her fingertips up and down his biceps and across his chest, feeling him twitch whenever she brushed against his nipples. "I think we just did." she said with a sly smile.

Daryl laid on his back, arms tucked under under his head on the pillow, gazing at Hallie. Her face was flushed and her skin was still damp with sweat. Her hair reaching down her back brushed against his belly and tickled slightly. She was sitting on his stomach, her legs folded under on either side of his hips, feeding him pieces of the left-over Hershey bar. He was grinning from ear to ear again.

"What are you grinning at NOW?" Hallie giggled.

"Just thinkin' we need more of that there chocolate." he nodded at the wrapper in her hand, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Nuh-huh." she said, leaning over to kiss him, her hands gripping his muscled biceps firmly. "I got something better 'n chocolate now." Daryl noticed that her pale skin glowed as she bent over and kissed his neck. "Daryl , that was incredible. You do that to me every time and I'll be on my knees daily."

"That's just ma' opening act, Woman" he pushed himself up on his elbows and looked at her, his blue eyes ablaze.

"Well fuck ME sideways!" Hallie mocked, returning his smoldering gaze and kissing his shoulder, biting gently into his tanned flesh.

Daryl suddenly grabbed Hallie's butt and rolled her over to her back in a single swift motion, positioning himself on top and pressing his hips. "There ya' go, beggin' again!" he laughed as he began kissing her once more.


	13. Vanished

**Catching breath...onward and upward! Thanks so much for the reviews and encouragement!**

**Chapter 13 Vanished**

Hallie was restless. Being cooped up in the camp's buildings was making her antsy. She needed to be out of doors, not stuck inside. She was desperate to get into the woods, but knew better. Daryl would skin her alive if she even thought about it. She smiled to herself. Knowing Daryl's skill set, not only would he know just how to do it, he'd probably have the right tool to get the job done.

"Get me outside." she said, rolling off of him one morning. "I'm like a maggot in hot ashes."

"Yer' starting ta' talk like me." he laughed.

"Daryl, I mean it. I'm getting a serious case of cabin fever here."

"I know what's good fer'' that." he grabbed her playfully by the waist and pulled her back on top of him.

Hallie smacked his arm hard. "That's your cure for everything" she said, rolling her eyes. "Take me out to the woods."

"Take ya' TO tha' woods, or take ya' IN tha' woods?" Daryl dipped his chin and grinned, looking at her impishly from under his eyebrows. "I'm likin' that last one."

"Damn it, I'm serious!" she smacked his arm again. "I need to get out of here. Let me go into town with you guys next time."

"Ain't gonna' happen, already told ya'." he shook his head. "Too dangerous. Walkers 're gettin' hungry an' mean nowadays. They're havin' trouble findin' food an' they're starting ta' move in packs. It's tha' damned'est thing I ev'r seen."

"I hate it when you guys go off like that. Nobody breathes around here until you guys get back- we're all too scared. I wish there was another way." Hallie laid her head on his chest.

"I know. But it's tha' only way." Daryl agreed. It was not comfortable going building by building, dealing with the threat of walkers in any place, the threat of other survivors not taking kindly to the group's scavenging in their territory. It was dangerous and Daryl knew that one of these days, their luck would run out.

Two days later, they were ready to roll again. He waved at Hallie through the windshield of his truck one last time as the group headed off in the light rain. Dale was standing on the porch next to her and squeezed her hand. "They'll be ok." he tried to reassure her. In the pit of her stomach, Hallie knew that something was not right.

Hallie walked around the back of the admin building cautiously. She had heard something. There had been no walkers in the woods since shortly after they arrived. Daryl, T-Dog and Rick and seen to that. This noise was different. It was a heavy click sound...repeated but with no particular rhythm. She moved carefully, the rifle parallel to the ground, ready to fire at any moment. Click...click...click from a distance. With the rain falling, it was hard to tell the direction.

Hallie circled back and went inside to Shane, who was watching out the side window.

"I think I heard something." she said. "Something's not right. I can't put my finger on it, but something's not right. "

"What did you hear?" Shane asked. Since their last incident, she and Shane had developed a mutual understanding-neither one of the acknowledge the other unless absolutely necessary. Hallie was grateful that Shane was not being an ass and was at least taking her seriously. "What direction did it come from?"

"Couldn't tell. Not walkers, not scraping or moaning or anything like that. Just a weird sound I can't place. It wasn't a normal woods sound- almost like...I don't know. It's bugging me that I can't place it."

"Stay here and lock the doors." he said sharply. He picked up his shot gun and walked out of the admin building. He hurried down the gravel drive into the woods, out of sight of Hallie and Dale, who were looking on from the windows. He pulled his poncho around his neck and baseball cap down tighter to try to keep out the drizzle. In doing so, he blocked his peripheral vision for just a second. That's all it took. One blow to his head and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious. The large bald man wielding the shovel bound Shane's hands and feet with rope and drug him, through the woods to the hole in the chain link fence that he'd snipped with the bolt cutters he'd stolen from Dale's motor home.

Hallie paced the admin hall's wooden floors for an hour, watching out the windows for any sign not only of Shane's return, but for a logical explanation as to what made the clicking noise. Andrea and Carol were with the kids in their bedroom, Lori was asleep in hers. Dale was stationed at the back of the building, watching out windows, as well. Hallie and Dale exchanged nervous glances every time they caught each other's eye. Both were beginning to think that Shane had been gone too long, but neither wanted to say it out loud.

Outside, the bald man returned to his perch in the tree, beyond the drive, well out of sight of anyone in the camp. He was well-hidden and the height of the tree afforded him additional security from anything on the ground. He shifted his weight and readjusted the hunting knife on his belt. He was comfortable sitting in the tree, watching the ones from the group that had stayed behind, waiting. As the afternoon waned, he watched as the three vehicles slowly made their way up the drive and parked in the area to the left of the administration building. The four men pulled boxes and duffle bags out and began to unload the supplies they found while in town.

Hallie flung the door open and ran to the men.

"Shane's gone. He's been gone for hours. He didn't come back!" she exclaimed, trying to maintain calm and failing miserably. "Dale and I ...we...we couldn't leave the group to go look for him. He didn't come back!" she repeated.

"Rick stepped up to her and took her by the shoulders. "Hallie, breathe. What's going on?"

"I was outside checking around the admin building. I heard something...I couldn't identify the noise. Shane...he..." she took a deep breath. "I told him I heard something and he left to go check it out. He's been gone for about four hours. We haven't seen or heard anything from him since he left. He took a shot gun with him. " Hallie felt a stab in the pit of her stomach. "Something's wrong. He hasn't come back." she repeated again.

"Ok," Rick said calmly. "You get back into Admin and make sure everybody's safe and all the doors and windows are locked. Make sure there's a weapon and ammo in each room." Rick looked around at Daryl and T-Dog. "I think we'd better head out." he said quietly.

Daryl moved to Hallie next to the truck and wrapped his arms around her, quickly kissing her on the top of the head. "G'on. Git' back inside." he said releasing her and moving her gently away from him towards the Admin building. "Do what Rick said."

She was about halfway there when the walker rounded the corner of the building and headed towards her, moving quickly. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted it's jerky movements and screamed as she ran up the walk to the porch and took the stairs two at a time. Daryl and Glenn spun around to see the walker stretch to try to grab Hallie's leg as she hit the porch.

"Inside!" Daryl yelled at Hallie as she hit the top step and the walker's hand grasped for her hiking boot. "Get tha' fuck inside." She grabbed the door knob and turned and pushed at the same time, throwing her weight on the door. Daryl knew that if Hallie wasn't inside, any shot taken from a gun put her at risk of being hit as well. He took two quick steps to the truck and pulled out the crossbow from the front seat, setting a bolt as he turned back to the building. Daryl took three quick steps towards the walker, which had now turned and was making it's way quickly towards them, snarling, snapping, reaching with it's rotted-flesh hands, it's brown workpants and shirt hanging off it's body. Daryl aimed and fired the bolt into it's head . It dropped, not six feet in front of him. "Stinkin' rotten, dead-ass mutha' fucker." He walked around the corpse slowly with his bow trained on the corpse's head. He fired again, this time out of sheer terror that the walker had come so close to Hallie.

The men looked at each other in silence. Since the first week of their arrival, they had encountered no walkers on the grounds of the camp. The felt certain that the fence that enclosed the camp not only was secure but was strong enough that if a walker tried to force it's way through it, the fence would easily keep it out. They also knew that walkers didn't climb... or tunnel. No one said the obvious, no one offered to say out loud what they were all thinking.


	14. Searching

**Sorry for the hiatus...life keeps getting in the way!  
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**Chapter 14: Searching**

The four men slogged through the woods, searching for any signs of Shane. The day's drizzle had made any tracks impossible to read, which frustrated the hell out of Daryl. They walked the perimeter of the camp as far as they dared in what little daylight was left and returned to the rest of the group in the Admin building with no news to speak of other than the three walkers that they killed about a quarter of a mile down the fence line.

"We'll go out again at first light. Until then, everybody inside. Everybody stays together; we eat in here, too. Nobody goes outside. Keep the noise to a minimum. We'll keep watch in four hours shifts again." Rick detailed the plan. Everyone was in agreement- they were too terrified t even question it. "We need to find out why we have walkers inside the fence. We'll break in to groups and check out the fence first. Then we'll divide up the rest of the grounds and see what we find."

Dinner was quiet and what conversation to be had was a faint attempt at diverting the group's attention. The tension was high and there were any numerous pregnant pauses in the conversations. Hallie noticed that Daryl ate his entire dinner with his lower leg behind hers, resting his foot twisted around her ankle, as if touching her at all times gave him a sense of heightened security, protecting what was his.

Hallie rolled over when Daryl returned from his turn on watch. She hadn't been sleeping, but laying there the whole time, nervously straining to hear any sound that might indicate that there was trouble downstairs or outside. Thinking Hallie would be asleep, he had showered before he came to the room and was wearing only a towel.

"Oh, Man" she hissed, drawing in a breath. "Do you have ANY idea how fine you are?" she propped herself up on one elbow to watch him dry off and dress.

"Yeah, right." he scoffed. "I'm too sexy for my shirt." he laughed and wiggled his hips.

"You got that right!" Hallie exclaimed. "Seriously. You are just so freaking hot, sometimes I can't stand it."

"Well, now yer' jus' lyin'." He shook his head.

"Fuck if I am. Look at you. You are SUCH a man. You walk around here with a shop rag tucked in your back pocket and you got the crossbow thing going on and those shirts with no sleeves that show off all your muscles...and then there's that magnificent ass of yours. You just ooze testosterone. Jesus, Daryl, you..." Hallie's voice trailed off as she found it hard to concentrate just looking at him. "You SWAGGER." she said, her voice now barely above a whisper.

"Yer' crazy." he laughed again. "I ain't nuthin'. Never have been."

"I don't believe it. You're hot, you're so smart about so many things, you're skilled with weapons and hunting and did I already say hot? You're perfect. You've kept this whole camp alive hunting, protecting them. They're here because of you. For sure, you're the only reason I'm alive today."

"Well, that's diff'rent." he said, pulling on his gray boxers and letting his thumbs snap loudly on the elastic on the waistband . He walked to the mattress.

"Had ta'." he grinned

"Why did you HAVE to?" she asked. "You could have just walked out and left me there."

"Nope. Wouldn't a' never happened." he shook his head. Kneeling on the mattress, he pulled her up to him, holding her tightly to his cool chest. He smelled so good. Clean-Daryl Smell, Hallie called it. His arms were so strong around her. "Woulda' never left tha' woman I love."

Hallie felt light-headed and dizzy. He'd never said the word before. She never either because she didn't figure he was the type to admit and she didn't want to pressure him or make him say it out of feeling like he HAD to. "I love you too, Daryl." she said softly, as his lips found hers.

The next morning, Daryl, Glenn, Rick and T-Dog were up early and anxious to get outside. They paired up, each team taking one direction, walking the fence line, searching for any sign of Shane and anything unusual. Daryl and Glenn headed west from the main gate, T-Dog and Rick moving east. Daryl took out four walkers with his crossbow. He warned Glenn about using his rifle unless absolutely necessary, in case there were more walkers nearby. The teams kept in contact with walkie-talkies.

About forty minutes into the search, after dispatching a handful of walkers themselves, Rick and T-Dog found what Rick feared most. A large gaping hole in the chain-link fence. Rick inspected the metal closely and looked at T-Dog with dread. "It's been cut." he said. The ends of the links in the fence were shiny and sharp. It was clear that some type of snips or cutters had been used. Even a fair number of walkers crushing together on the fence would not cause that type of damage - the links were obviously cut. Rick looked at the ground on either side of the hole. The weeds and bushes were smashed down as if something large had been drug through to the outside. The crushed foliage continued on towards the road.

Rick radioed Daryl and Glenn what he had found. They had searched around their half of the perimeter and were doubling back through the woods, looking for more walkers and any indication of Shane's whereabouts. They found nothing. No tracks, no signs of anything amiss. Glenn noted that it looked like the woods had just swallowed up Shane. Daryl, however, was not so convinced.

The bald man shimmied down his perch in the tree well after the men were away. He crept towards the main entrance of the camp and worked his way up and over the chain link fence next to the wooden gate. He walked quickly up the road and made it to the battered, rusty jeep parked in the brush, being careful not to be spotted by any walkers on the road. He drove the half hour to the abandoned farmhouse and eased the jeep into the barn.

He bounded up the back steps and into the kitchen. Sitting down at the table, he picked up a stale cigarette from the pack on the table. Lighting it, he breathed deeply, the end glowing cherry red. Leaning back in his chair, he looked around. Pot on the stove means dinner, the thought. I'm damn hungry. Just then, he heard the heavy foot steps coming down the stairs from the second floor. He turned and looked into the other man's face.

"Well?" the other man said, sitting his half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the table.

"Found 'em.' he said blankly. "Right where you said they'd be."

"How many?"

"Four women, two kids, and five men."

"They've lost some. Four women? Two of 'em blonde? "

"Nope. Redhead. Cute. Little thing, if ya'like 'em like that."

"I like 'em any way I can get 'em. J'a get the cop?"

"Yeah." The bald man answered. "He didn't put up no fight. Got him hidden away good. They'll never find him."

"Leave the fence open?"

"Nice big hole. Big 'nuff for all kinds of walkers." The bald man chuckled.

"Well, alright." the other man said. "You did real good, Arliss. Real good. You go on n' git yerself' some dinner and get a good night's sleep. You got it comin'."

The bald man looked up at the other. "Thanks, Boss." he said, getting up and going to the stove. The other man rose, took the bottle from the table and walked slowly down the hall which lead from the kitchen to the living room. Arliss could hear his footsteps on the steps once more.

Arliss smirked to himself. He had fooled the Boss again. There were six men in the group. The chink, the old man, two cops, a negro...and the redneck. Since day one, he'd kept hidden the fact that the redneck was still with the group. He wanted it to be a surprise. Arliss was sure that when Boss found out, it would be a wonderful surprise for this man whom he desperately wanted to please. He wanted to make his boss happy. Finding the redneck and bringing him to the Boss would be the perfect way, Arliss was certain.


	15. Mad Skills and White Pills

**Rated M! CONTENT WARNING! They're at it again!**

_Thanks for the reviews, Folks. They make me happy-happy! Please keep them coming._

_I don't own or have any claim to the Walking Dead or any of it's characters..._

_Do you think Reedus has ANY idea about this stuff? ;0)_

**Chapter 15: Mad Skills and White Pills **

"It was WHAT?" Hallie said. Her voice was a mixture of panic and fear. "What are you saying? Somebody CUT the fence on purpose to let walkers in here with us?" she and the others looked at Rick in disbelief.

"Looks that way. It looks like it's been cut with something sharp." Rick said to the group gathered in front of the fireplace.

"That's it. That's what I heard. The clicking sound - cutters snipping through the fence." Hallie made a pinching motion with her thumb and fingers. "That's it exactly." she said, panic taking over.

"But who would do such a thing? Purposely expose us to walkers?" Dale tried to rationalize. "Why?"

"Who knows. Maybe somebody wants the camp all to themselves. Had it spotted and just hadn't claimed it before we came along. Maybe it's just somebody bad." T-Dog said, shrugging his shoulders. "Could be anybody."

"Maybe it's Merle?" Glenn offered. Little had been spoken about Merle since they had returned from attempting to rescue him in Atlanta, except for the occasions where Daryl was either drunk or seething with anger, or both, and brought it up to throw back in the group's face. It wasn't that they'd forgotten what happened with Merle, or felt any less guilty about it, it was just more comfortable not mentioning it at all.

"Ain't fuckin' Merle," Daryl spat, anger rising in his throat, "how'd he even find us here? He's still in Atlanta. I'd bet on it." He stood up abruptly and walked towards the chair where Glenn was sitting.

"Perhaps your right, Daryl. We are a good ways from Atlanta and how would he even have known where to find us? It's a long shot at best." Dale said looking from Daryl to Glenn, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Fuckin'-A right it is!" Daryl said. He was towering over Glenn now. "Don't let me hear ya' say that a'gin." He said coldly, making no effort to conceal the anger on his face.

"Here's what we're going to do." Rick said. "First, we're going to fix that hole in the fence. Then we can concentrate on taking care of any walkers that may have wandered through. We have to be safe in order to be able to continue to look for Shane." he continued. "We have to make sure that we're ALL safe, first and foremost. Nobody goes outside alone. Period."

Hallie, Andrea, Lori and Carol sat in the women's room with the coffee pot between them on the floor.

"So, this sucks." Hallie said. "I feel like if I spend one more day inside, I'm going to go stark raving mad."

"I know what you mean." Andrea agreed, as Carol shook her head as well.

"Lori, Hon, how you holdin' up?" Hallie asked her gently, topping off her mug. "This has to be hard on you."

Lori looked at her with tears welling up. "I just feel so guilty." she said, breaking into quiet sobs. They had never broached the subject of Lori and Shane until now. It was one of those unofficial "things we don't talk about," much like Hallie's time with Emerick and Lloyd or the abuse Carol suffered at the hands of her now-dead husband, Ed.

"Hey, Lori. Aww, Honey." Carol put her arm around Lori's shoulder. "It's ok. It's ok."

"Lori, you have nothing to feel guilty about. None of us know what we would have done if we were in your shoes. Nobody's judging. You truly believed Rick was gone. Shane did too, I'm sure." Hallie couldn't believe she was trying to defend Shane, but it was more about comforting her friend at this point. "Shane was there and it was a normal, human reaction. You were both scared and lonely and you both needed someone. We would all have done the same thing. If you had a clue that Rick was still alive, I'm sure you..." Hallie's voice trailed off, letting the others fill in the sentence. There was a very long, very heavy silence. It was time to change the subject.

"You...you and Shane wouldn't have become so close. Nobody thinks bad of you and nobody blames you. Plus, I'm sure your spending time with Shane was a good diversion. It kept your mind off of jumping Daryl's bones."

Carol and Andrea fell silent. Andrea looked at Hallie in horror- she didn't believe that Hallie had said that. Lori's sniffling turned into a full-on choking sound. She looked at Hallie from under her dark bangs and grinned, her eyes red-rimmed and teary.

"Oh, God, is it that obvious? Here I thought I was doing a good job of hiding it." she said, taking a long gulp of coffee. She looked at Hallie and bust out laughing, almost spraying her coffee down her blue sleeveless t-shirt. Andrea and Carol realized that Lori took it exactly has Hallie had intended and they were laughing hysterically as well now.

"Hallie! Oh, Lord! " Andrea exclaimed. "Ok. Your turn. Please explain you and Daryl to me. You guys have nothing in common. What's the attraction? Is it because he brought you here, is it like some kind of weird Stockholm Syndrome or something?"

Hallie was a little taken aback. "No." she said. "Listen, Daryl is not AT ALL who you think he is. He's sweet and kind and gentle and funny and smart and dear God does that man have..." she searched for her next words, knowing if he were listening he'd be so pissed that they were talking about him he wouldn't touch her for a week. Hallie cleared her throat for emphasis, "...skills. The man's got mad skills."

There were hoots and hollers from the three other women. "I knew it. I just knew it!" Carol laughed.

"Look. I know most of the people here don't like him at all. I know you guys don't trust him completely. I know he can be a royal pain and a huge asshole at times. Most of that is his upbringing. He didn't have it easy and believe it or not, Merle as a father figure was apparently an improvement. But he's not just the redneck trailer park trash that everybody thinks he is. Not by a long shot. There is a lot more to him than what you see." Hallie continued, her voice now quiet and serious. "He's the most amazing guy I've ever met."

"Well, I've seen you some mornings." Lori said, "He must be amazing. You can hardly wipe the smile off your face. Afterglow." she teased.

Hallie felt her cheeks get hot as she blushed. "Yeah, like I said...there's a LOT more to him than what YOU guys have seen." she said winking, which met with more hooting from the other three.

Daryl caught Hallie by the waist. He had been pacing in the office where he and, now, Hallie slept. He was still fuming about Glenn's comment. His face was hard and his blue eyes were on fire. He backed her up to the wall of the office.

"He didn't do this." he closed his eyes when he spoke. "He wouldn't do this."

"I know." she said softly, as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "I know."

"He just wouldn't." He said, burying his face in her hair.

Daryl pulled back and then leaned in and kissed Hallie forcefully. She looked in his eyes and saw pure,unadulterated anger. His kisses became more urgent and demanding. One hand moved from her waist to her jeans, clawing at the button and zipper. The other hand moved up her shirt to her breasts, kneading, groping. He yanked down Hallie's jeans and put his hand down the front of her panties, moving his fingers quickly and deftly finding exactly what he wanted. Hallie gasped loudly and closed her eyes.

She knew from his rough touch that they weren't going to make love. Soft and gentle wasn't what Daryl wanted or needed at the moment. She moved her hands to his waist and slipped her hand under his waistband, brushing her fingers against the rock-hard bulge. She continued down and put her hand around him and squeezed gently. He made a guttural sound and his eyes blazed.

Kissing his neck, Hallie whispered. "Daryl. Here. Now." She withdrew her hand and fumbling a bit, unzipped his pants. She tugged on the loose workpants and they fell to the floor. Daryl lifted Hallie up and pushed her to the wall hard, pulling hard at her underwear until it was down around her ankles with her jeans and then pushing both off her feet, which were dangling above the ground by that point. She wrapped her legs around him and he quickly entered her, not hesitating, not stopping even to step out of his pants. Hallie clung to his neck as Daryl held her against the wall. He was entirely lost in the act, his eyes closed, sweat beading on his forehead, his head thrown back. He moved faster and harder with each thrust, pulling Hallie out from the wall and then slamming her backwards. He held her with both hands gripping tightly around her waist and leaned in to kiss her hard again. Over and over Daryl moved into her and then withdrew, as his lips covered her neck and mouth, his tongue just as demanding, just as intent.

Daryl's breath was ragged and his moans had turned low and rhythmic, matching his every thrust. She knew he was close. "Baby." she whispered, "Don't hold back."

Daryl let go of her waist and cupped her ass with both hands. He drove into her while he pulled her to him, as if he couldn't get close enough. He let out a loud, throaty growl and exploded in a long, violent shudder that wracked his whole body, as he fell with her against the wall. Struggling to catch his breath, he held Hallie like that for several minutes, not talking, still inside her, his hands under her ass, her back flat to the wall and their foreheads together.

"Jesus." he finally said, in a low whisper. "I ain't never felt like that before." he confessed. "That was..." he was at a lost for words.

"Fuckin'." Hallie said quietly. She brushed his damp, shaggy hair brown from his eyes and traced his bottom lip with her thumb. "Pure and simple."

Arliss had slept on the couch in the living room. He woke to hear Boss coming down the stairs, his usual morning coughing and cussing. Boss was walking slowly this morning, he thought. Must have finished off the bottle before he went to sleep. Arliss moved swiftly into the kitchen.

"What's up today, Boss?" he asked.

"Nothing. We wait. Let 'em stew. You go back an' jes' watch. See what their routine is, if they've changed it. Let me know who all's there. Watch yer ass. Don't get seen, Arliss. They are bad people and they'll hurt you."

"Ok, Boss." he said. "I'll leave after breakfast."

"Fucking stop calling me 'Boss, ya' idiot." he snarled. "I ain't yer boss."

"Right. Sure thing." Arliss said, his head down. He didn't agree with the man at all. He WAS his boss. He kept him from being killed by walkers in Atlanta, swooping in and picking him up in his big white van as a pack of them closed in. Boss fed him, let him drink beer, even, told him things to keep him safe and taught him how to survive. He found him a jeep to drive. Arliss had always wanted his own jeep.

In return, Arliss agreed to be the Boss' right-hand. In his dull capacity to understand most of the world around him, Arliss didn't get the irony of what Boss was asking. But he did understand that it was his job to make sure that Boss was safe and keep him happy.

Most of the time, keeping Boss happy revolved around white pills and bottles of whiskey. They had found a drug store in one of the towns on their travels and he had found bunches and bunches of the white pills. Arliss knew what to look for when he was looking for pills for Boss. It had an O and an X and a Y and sometimes if he couldn't find those, he looked for bottles with names ending in "d-o-n-e" or "d-i-n." Boss was very happy when he found all those pills back then. He remembered how Boss smiled and danced around and just kept telling him he had done good. Arliss remembered he said that the pills were Heaven and made him feel like God. Arliss thought that the real God wouldn't like him saying that, but this was Boss. He was at least real close to God, Arliss rationalized.

Arliss smiled to himself. He knew that he liked making Boss happy andwhen Boss was happy, so was Arliss. He knew simply that he would only be ok if he stayed with Boss and it was his job to see that Boss got it anything he wanted or needed. By any means necessary.


	16. And So It Begins

**Thanks to all of you "regulars" for the wonderful reviews! Love that you're getting such a kick out of this. I am having some doubts as to the use of a particularly racist word that I think would normally be used by a couple of the characters...I just can't bring myself to use it. Hopefully nobody will be offended at what else I came up with...  
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**No claims to WD, other than a serious case of the hots for Daryl/Norman. **

**Chapter 16: And So It Begins...**

Arliss rubbed his eyes. He was tired. The tree was getting rough and his ass was tingling, he'd been sitting there so long. He watched the main building for hours today. Nothing was going on. Two of the men had come out and went into the back building, where they used to eat and cook their meals, returning to the Administration building with large boxes full of what looked like cans and food. At another point, the redneck with the crossbow and the redhead had walked slowly around the buildings, as if on patrol, looking for trouble. When they finished, the redneck grabbed the woman's ass and they made out for a while on the porch before going back inside, confirming what Arliss had suspected earlier. He tucked that fact into the back of his mind for future reference.

Arliss drove back to the aging farmhouse and reported his observations to Boss. There were four men: a cop with short dark hair, a skinny dark-haired man, a big buck darkie, an chinaman and an old man. Not including the cop that he'd drug to the box. When Boss quizzed him about the skinny dark-haired man, he hated to lie but it as for Boss' own good- it was part of the surprise. If Boss knew the redneck was there, he'd go to them now and Arliss would no longer be needed.

"What about the women? How many are there?" Boss asked. "I always like tha' blonde one with tha' pretty hair. She's got a sweet ass on her, that one."

"Four women. Skinny one with really short hair, she's always with two little kids, a boy and a girl. Then a blonde woman, a skinny dark-haired-"

"Blonde one got long hair or short?"

"''Bout to her shoulders. Not real long, not like the redhead." Arliss answered dutifully.

"Mmmm. That's the older one. She got a sweet ass too. Wonder what happened to the younger one? Musta' had some trouble." Boss mused, watching the smoke from his cigarette drift wistfully upwards towards the ceiling. "Who else?"

"Skinny one with long dark hair..."

"That's the cop's wife." Boss interjected.

"...and the little redhead. "

"She must be new-they din't have no redhead last I knew. Always wanted ta' try a red head. I hear they taste different. " Boss leerred and licked his lips. "That's all? What about a Negress?" he asked. "'N some Mes'sicans. 'N a ugly fat guy, and..."

"That's all. Nobody else." Arliss answered.

"Dwindlin' down. This just gets easier 'n easier." Boss stood up and looked at Arliss. "You keep doin' this good and I'ma' hafta' promote ya'." he grinned. Arliss just beamed.

XXXXXX

"No, that's not what I'm saying. You are NOT stupid for watching NASCAR. I didn't say that at all! Jesus! I didn't even use that word!" Hallie said loudly.

"Fuck if ya' didn't!" Daryl was yelling now. "Ya' said NASCAR was stupid."

"What I said was that it's not a real sport!" Hallie insisted.

"Is so!" Daryl wasn't about to let Hallie win this argument. He loved drinking beers and watchin' the races on tv on Sunday. "They show it on tv all the time. Everybody loves the SPORT of NASCAR RACING!" he said, emphasizing the word sport.

"Fuck, Daryl, there's no ball involved. It's ain't no sport."

"Don't say ain't. And who says it's gotta have a ball ta' be a sport. Yer gymnastics ain't got no ball and you think THAT's a sport."

"Actually, some of it DOES have a ball, you big dork."

"It does not. I seen it during the 'Lympics. It's got swingin' bars an' a big wood thing they dance up and down on and those horse things they run and jump off of. 'Ain't got no ball at all. You think that's a sport?"

"Well, no, not technically. It's a demonstration of skill- vaulting, floor exercise, uneven parallel bars and balance beam and before you go saying one more word, you'd better thank gymnastics for making me so... flexible." Hallie grinned through her frustration. It was hard to be mad at him, he was so cute. "But it's still a hell of a lot more of a sport than NASCAR!"

Daryl looked blankly at her for a minute. The comment about how flexible Hallie was had completely derailed his train of thought. Damn, if she wasn't nice and...bendy... He licked his lips as he though of her back arched so far away from him that her hair was in a pile on his thighs or better still, her legs wrapped around his neck...

Daryl blinked a couple times and snapped out of it. "Oh, Christ! Is TOO a sport! You try drivin' like those guys. They sweat so much they lose weight durin' them races. It's damn hard work! It's fuckin' dangerous, too. People get kilt'!"

"Puh-leese." she said, flipping her hair behind her. "It's 300 miles of left turns and then they waste a perfectly good bottle of champagne dousing each other when it's all over, they drink freakin' milk! There's no sport to it - it's driver's ed. and auto shop all rolled into one sweaty, beer-soaked hill-jack afternoon ..and you're right about the dying part - that's the only reason people only watch it, to see somebody crash!"

"Well it's better 'n fuckin' bowlin' and THAT has yer' damn ball." he exclaimed, smirking.

"Fuck you, Daryl Dixon." Hallie said crossing her arms and turning her back to keep him from seeing her smile. She started walking towards the door to get out of there before she burst into uncontrollable laughter at his logic. He'd fucking won this argument, she thought and worse yet, from the look on his face, he damn well knew it, too.

Daryl caught Hallie by the arm as she was about to reach for the door knob.

"No you don'!" he said, spinning her around. Picked her up by the waist and threw her over his shoulder, locking the door with one hand and smacking her hard on the ass with the other. Hallie yelped and cussed, smacking him on his back with her hands.

"You ain't gettin' away that easy!" he laughed as he turned towards the mattress and tossed her down on her back. "I b'lieve it's time I showed ya' my floor exercise."

Twenty minutes later, Hallie was putting on her clothes for the second time that day and Daryl was sitting up, looking at her and grinning like the Cheshire cat. "Well?" he asked. "Don't I get a score?"

"9.5 for originality..." she said throwing his boxers at his head, "but I'll give you a 10 for execution."

XXXXXXX

Shane's headache continued to pound. He knew he was in serious trouble. He was in the dark, total darkness, and it was very quiet. There was no noise. He was still bound hand and foot and his muscles had gone beyond cramping to pure agonizing pain. He was terrified. He was also thirsty-dehydration had set it and it had him worried. He was pretty sure he had a concussion from the way his head hurt. He'd had one before at the police academy after a misplaced blow from a training partner. This felt ten times worse, however. He could feel wood with his fingertips, cold and damp. He wasn't able to move very much but what little he could, he could tell he was in a small confined place. He struggled to loosen the bindings and got nowhere. He thought about shouting and making any kind of noise he could, under normal circumstances he would, but then he thought about walkers hearing him. He would be a tasty meal if they found him, where ever he was, trussed up like a turkey at Thanksgiving. He closed his eyes and thought about Lori, wondering if she missed him or was glad that he was no longer around.

XXXXXXX

It had been a several days since they found the hole cut in the fence. To fix it, they managed to pull an abandoned minivan up next to the fence, to keep any walkers away while they worked. Those that did try to claw and maneuver their way to the men working were dispatched with the help of Daryl's crossbow. T-Dog used the portable welder from the shop to weld the fence together with steel chain threaded through the openings in the links. It wasn't pretty by a long shot but it was once again secure. They decided not to leave the van parked against it, in case walkers got the notion to climb. No one had ever seen one do it, but they weren't going to take a chance. The group then fanned out in pairs and worked their way through the grounds, picking off any of the remaining walkers that had managed to make it through the hole before it was closed up. It took them most of the afternoon but they were confident that they got every one of them. They piled the bodies in the large truck and dumped them a ways outside the fence and then burned them with gasoline. The fire attracted attention from walkers on the road, but they men were careful to stay hidden and after it died down, the walkers eventually lost interest when no food was to be had.

Dale couldn't shake the feeling he had every time he went outside. He felt like he was being watched. He had that feeling shortly before Shane disappeared. He had approached Rick about it and while Rick didn't dismiss Dale's wariness, he tried to reassure the older man that they had searched every inch of the property and found nothing unusual. Within a few more days, after no signs of anything out of the ordinary, Rick loosened up the rules and life began to return to normal. They tried to keep up hope of Shane returning but with each passing day, the idea that he was unharmed and would come back became more distant.

XXXXX

Arliss was at his post , watching, waiting. He watched as the redneck, the black man, the asian and the tall man exited the administration building and climbed into their vehicles. They took off through the gate and up the road towards town. The older man was patrolling the area between the Administration building and the Mess Hall with a rifle, strolling back and forth, around the sides and in front. It was time.

Lori and Andrea had been working on dinner while Carol had Sophia and Carl at a table in the mess hall, practicing their multiplication facts with flashcards. "Old School school." as Carol had called it. Hallie was in the pantry off the kitchen inventorying the supplies they had left, trying to make plans for as many meals for the group as they could with what was there. Daryl had been out hunting that day for the first time in at least week since Shane's disappearance.

Arliss climbed down and made his way over the fence quickly and walked to the old barn down the road from the camp. With his foot, he swept aside the moldy straw from the top of the piece of plywood covering the hole in the floor he'd dug. He shoved the plywood covering the hole aside and dug the key to the locks out of his pocket. He undid the padlocks on the top of the large wooden box and carefully lifted the hinged lid.

The cop inside was weak and offered little resistance. In the time that he'd held him in the box, he'd only offered him water three or four times and hardly any food at all. Boss said to keep him alive but not to be a fanatic about it, whatever that meant. Arliss took a piece of two-by-four from beside the hole and as the cop tried to strain to look up to him, Arliss clubbed the cop in the head again. This time there was blood. Arliss took off his black leather belt and started to work.

XXXXXXXX

Hallie wanted her lip gloss. Bad. She knew it was silly and immature to cling to such a trivial thing during, well, the demise of civilization as they knew it, but damn it, she wasn't going to have chapped lips for the apocalypse. Especially with the workout Daryl gave them. As for Daryl, he was well aware of her fondness for lip balm and usually kept her well-supplied, managing to find her a couple tubes on nearly every trip. Chap-Stick didn't make her squeal like chocolate did, but then, that was a whole other story.

"Ok, I can't stand it anymore. I'm going to run to the Admin building. I gotta have it. My lips are cracking." she stood up and announced.

"You sit right down. Nobody goes anywhere alone." Andrea said flatly. "We're in the middle of dumplings - you can wait a few minutes."

"No, I can't and seriously, I'll be fine. I have my bff." she said, holding up the shotgun. "See. I'm a dangerous woman!" Hallie joked. "I'll only be gone a second and Dale is out there too. You worry too much."

Hallie walked out the mess hall doors and quickly up the drive to the front porch of the admin building, waving to Dale at the edge of the drive.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?" he called.

She turned and jogged a few steps backwards. "Girl stuff!" she hollered, as she turned around again. She bounded up the stairs and ran inside to their room and grabbed one of the tubes of lip balm off the desk. She chuckled to herself- Hoppes 9 Oil for Daryl's gun and her Bert's Bees stick sitting side by side. It just struck her as funny.

She tucked the tube in her back pocket and walked back down the short hallway towards the door, stopping to pick up a leaf from the floor. Weird, she though. Must have blown in. Something odd caught her eye to the left, on the floor in front of the fireplace. She went over to inspect the lump closer, thinking it didn't seem like one of the kids toys or anything she readily recognized. It was wrapped in some kind of tan fabric. She picked up one corner gingerly and pulled it back find something else tucked under what looked like a baseball cap. She gasped as she recognized the cap immediately- the official-looking star emblem, the brown and gold and white design- it was Shane's sheriff's department baseball cap. The fabric she had undone was one of his t-shirts. Hallie lifted the baseball cap hesitantly off the lump underneath and froze for an instant. As she dropped the shotgun, she let out a blood-curdling scream.


	17. The Present

**Don't own the WD or any of it's characters... and remember, this is rated M!  
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**Thanks so much for the reviews and the "favorites" and "follows."  
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**Chapter 17: The Present**

Hallie couldn't hear herself screaming. The wild thumping sound from her chest was too loud. She had let loose of the baseball cap and let it drop, falling half on top of the severed hand, half on Shane's t-shirt. She had sat down hard on the wooden floor, her knees collapsing under her. She was now aware of her screams and she put her forearm over her mouth to muffle the sound. She was shaking now.

Dale hit the door first and burst in to find Hallie on her knees, rocking back and forth, trembling. Her eyes were wild with fear. She looked at him and looked back to the floor in front of her and tried to say something but her words came out as unintelligible gasps as she started to hyperventilate. Dale looked down at the floor and instantly realized what was in front of her. He pushed the rifle sling behind him and bent down, pulling Hallie away from the hand. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently.

"Hallie. Hallie." he repeated. "Honey, look at me. Breath."

Hallie was shaking. Her eyes welled with tears and she started to cry. "Shane's hand...Daryl...Daryl..." she choked..

"Hallie, Daryl's with the other guys. He's fine."

"No...Dale...No." She gulped air between breaths, starting to hyperventilate again. "Daryl's...not...gonna'...be fine." She leaned against the older man's chest. "He'll...be..." she was still shaking. She stopped and pulled away from Dale. "We can't tell him." she said, panic rising in he voice. "He can't know this. This will kill him." She scooted over to the hand and gingerly started to wrap the t-shirt back around it. "We have to hide this. We have to get rid of this." she said calmly, cradling the bundle. "He can't ever know what Merle did."

Dale was struck by the shift of her focus. "Hallie. We can't. Somebody was in here. We can't pretend this didn't happen. We're not safe. Daryl has to know. Merle is still be out there and he may very well try to do something more. He could try to go after one of the kids." he tried to reason with her.

Hallie sat there holding the bundle with the hand in her palms, staring at it blankly now. "No Dale, it will kill him. He will come unhinged. Please? Please promise me you won't say anything. I can take this out and get rid of it. We can tell people I was scared by a big spider. Or a mouse. Or..."

He shook his head firmly. "Hallie, that's impossible. I can't promise you that. Everyone has to know. For our own safety. We can't pretend this never happened to protect Daryl." he said softly, putting his hand on her shoulder.

The front door swung open and in ran Andrea and Lori, Carol and the children. "What's going on? We heard screaming. Is everyone ok? Is it walkers?" Lori demanded, her frightened voice high and shrill.

"No. Everything is fine. I'm sorry, it was just a mouse. I totally overreacted." Hallie said as she shot Dale a warning look. "Why don't you kids go to your room with Carol while Dale and I take care of it." she said calmly as she walked to stand beside Dale., holding the bundle behind her. "Everything's under control. I'm sorry I screamed and scared you all. Really, it's nothing to worry about, just startled by a little mouse."

"Hallie's kinda jumpy around mice," Dale said. You should see her at Disney World when Mickey and Minnie walk by - she's just a mess!" he joked with Sophia and Carl. "Now, why don't you two go play in your rooms while I talk to your Moms and Andrea. Be sure to shut the door so that if we have to chase him he doesn't run in there with you! he said, making Carl grin and Sophia squeal.

By the time Dale was finished telling Andrea, Carol and Lori of the discovery, Hallie had slipped away to her room. She laid down on the mattress and buried her face in her pillow to muffle the screams that rose again.

XXXXX

Daryl burst through the wooden office door with a ear-splitting bang, almost tearing it off it's hinges. He was angry. Livid, in fact. He stormed over to Hallie and grabbed her by the arms, the veins in his neck standing out. He was red-faced and breathing hard. His voice was tight. "How could ya'?" he growled. He shook her. "How could ya' do somethin' sa' fuckin' stupid?" His hands released her arms and each grasped a handful of her thick hair, pulling her face close to his. His breath was hot in her face and his eyes were ablaze. "Ya' left tha' others an' were in here alone? Ya' put yerself in danger - and for fuckin' WHAT?" he was yelling. "Of all the dumb-ass..." Hee caught himself before doing any more damage. Daryl released his gasp and crushed her to him, dropping the bow where she'd been laying on the mattress only a few minutes before. "He coulda' still been in here. Ya' could 'a walked in on him an' he could a' killed ya' or taken ya with him." He stroked her hair. "I could a' lost ya'." he said closing his eyes and willing himself not to think about what could have happened.

"I'm sorry." she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Daryl. Fuck! This is all my fault." Daryl noticed how red and swollen her eyes were. "If I hadn't been here, you would have left and kept looking for him and none of this would have happened. I caused all of this. You would have been trying to find him if it weren't for having to take care of me."

Daryl held her at arm's length, his strong hands tight around her arms again. "Are ya' fuckin' crazy?" he said. "How can ya' think ANY of this is yer' fault? You weren't even AROUN' when they chained ma' brother ta' a pipe an' left him on a roof ta' die like a dog." Daryl was dumbfounded. How could she think this? "THEY brought all this on themselves. This is all their fault... an' it shor' ain't over. Not by a long-shot." he said.

Daryl walked Hallie to a chair backwards and sat her down hard. "Lissen' to me. Get your shit packed. Ain't safe for ya' here. I gotta get ya' outta' here an' ta' someplace safe." His thoughts were racing. "I gotta find my...brother." he said, starting to pace. He wiped the back of his neck with the faded shop rag from his back pocket. "I gotta' find Merle an' talk some sense inta' him. I gotta' stop him." Daryl stopped pacing and looked at Hallie, his eyes wide. "My fuckin' brotha' is alive, Hallie. He's alive!" he said, momentarily forgetting what had happened earlier.

Hallie knew that while Merle was a hero to Daryl, a father figure and sometimes protector who he looked up to. She also knew that he was Daryl's personal albatross and had cost him in the form of broken relationships, misplaced accusations and suspicion, preconceived notions and outright hatred from anyone who knew that he was Merle Dixon's younger brother. "Daryl." she said softly. "I'm glad for you." she said, moving to him and circling her arms around his waist. "I know how much you love him."

"I don't know." he said quietly. "I don't know anymore." he said as he buried his face in her hair. "Everything's changed."

XXXXX

The meeting was tense. Everyone was gathered in front of the fireplace. Hallie had convinced Daryl that leaving the safety of the group was not the smartest thing to do now. They had plenty of weapons, they had numbers on their side and there were a lot of unknowns they would have to deal with, walkers being the one constant. Daryl acquiesced only when she insisted she wasn't leaving because it wasn't in his best interest to go off half-cocked with no plan and no way of knowing where Merle might be. He was furious with her for disagreeing and had stopped speaking to her. He sat on the opposite side of the room, glaring at her and chewing on the corner of his thumbnail.

Rick tried to take an out-loud account of what they did and didn't know...and what they needed to know. They knew that Shane was missing and at the least, severely injured. They knew that somebody had been able to get past the fence and into the building and leave his hand inside. They surmised that since this happened on the first trip they had made into town since finding the fence cut and at a time when there was nobody in the building, except Hallie, who wasn't suppose to be there, somebody had to have been watching camp and be very aware of their routines. Hallie looked at Daryl when Rick made the statement. He was glaring at Hallie with narrowed eyes as he shook his head slowly. They knew that whoever it was intended them harm because they had cut the fence, giving walkers access to them.

What they didn't know was how able Merle was to pull all this off in his condition. Daryl literally leaped at the chance to remind the group that Merle's "condition" was their fault and none of this would have happened if they hadn't left him on that roof to die. No one disagreed,in fact, no one found it easy to even look him in the eye. They also didn't know if Merle was acting alone. They really didn't even know one hundred percent that this was Merle that did it.

T-Dog suggested they search to see if they could find anything that would indicate who was watching them and from where. If they were lucky, they could find Merle.

"N' just what'll ya' do if ya' find him, huh?" Daryl sneered, on his feet again. "What? You gonna' fuckin' finish the job ya' started? Ya' gonna' get a posse up an' bring him in an' hang 'em, Lawman? 'Sat what ya' gonna do, Sheriff Rick Grimes?" Daryl spat out the words like venom. When he was angry, his southern drawl got heavier. Lori looked at Hallie and then quickly looked away.

"No, nobody's going to do anything like that." Rick said. "Daryl, you have every right to be angry. I wouldn't blame you if you took a swing at me right now. Do it if you have to, but we have women and children to think about...to protect. Think about that." Rick turned and looked directly at Hallie. Think about what you want to protect." he said quietly.

Daryl unclenched his fist and took a step back. He knew Rick was right. He knew Merle was not in his right mind. He couldn't possibly be. He'd always been a mean, vindictive son of a bitch, but do to this? With Daryl a part of the group? Daryl's emotions were making it hard for him to think clearly. He stole a glance at Hallie. She was sitting on the couch, between Andrea and Glenn, her knees up, arms wrapped around her legs. She had her eyes closed and her head down. He recognized the look immediately - she was shutting down. She opened her eyes and looked directly at him, as if she could sense he was looking at her. She bit her lower lip unconsciously and looked away, registering no emotion. Daryl realized the pain in his chest was heartache...for a number of reasons.

XXXXX

Arliss watched the afternoon unfold from his perch in the tree. His hand still smarted where he'd scraped it on the bark, trying to climb up as fast as he could to avoid the old man in the hat coming around the building after he'd left them the present. He'd had a real close call. Arliss knew that someone had gone in the building alone. He wasn't expecting that. That was not the plan. They were all supposed to be in there together when they found the cop's hand, all of them, all the women, all the kids. Boss said he wanted to scare them good. Teach them a lesson and give 'em all nightmares, he'd said. Still, Arliss supposed, it had done the job. The men weren't back yet and he heard a woman screaming. When the men did finally return, there was lots of yelling.

Arliss sat in the tree. Boss said to come back when he knew they'd found the surprise, but he had his own plan now. In the morning, he knew they'd be coming. The were going to search the woods looking for Boss but he'd be there instead. Boss would be so happy if things worked according to Arliss' plan. Boss would have his revenge and his brother back and he'd be so happy he'd be grateful to Arliss forever.

XXXXXX

Arliss waited a while after the men left before he came down from the tree. He spent the night in a higher branch than usual, to make sure that they didn't see him. He thought for sure that they would be combing the woods and the grounds now, searching for Boss.

Arliss was pleased that he'd shaken up the bunch to the point that they were all huddled in one building and not stepping foot outside. The men had gone. The redneck, the buck, the tall man and the chinaman. That meant that the old man was inside with the woman and kids. Hardly a fair fight but they did have guns.

He circled back behind the garage and pried the lock plate from the wooden door frame with his pocket knife. He opened the door and walked in easily. Arliss knew exactly what he was going to do. He went to the dump truck and opened the door. Searching under the seat and in the cigarette tray, he found the keys tucked on top of the visor. Arliss jumped down and opened the large bay door on the front of the building and climbed back into the truck. He threw the truck in gear and hit the gas pedal, roaring out of the garage, up the drive, picking up speed. He ducked as he hit the back wall of the administration building head-on, ramming through window area with all the force of an explosion.

Dale heard the noise coming from behind the building and wheeled around just as the truck hit. The blast turned the wall and window into all sizes of projectiles as pieces of block and glass and window framing flew into the room, hitting Dale in the head, knocking him to the ground unconscious and covering him with glass and splinters. A two-by-four from the ceiling fell on top of him with a sickening thud.

The truck hit on the end of the building away from the rooms that the group had occupied. It traveled halfway into the main room before Arliss got it stopped. He could hear the women screaming and children crying behind the closed doors of one of the rooms at the other end of the building. He shook off the initial shock of the impact and climbed out, sprinting to pull the old man's rifle from under some debris. He grabbed the gun by the barrel and swung it around, looking up just as the red-head rounded the corner, from the hallway and aimed the shotgun at him.

"Don't even think about it, motherfucker." she said, walking over the debris that covered the floor. Her boot slid a little on uneven piece of concrete and lost her balance a bit and tried to catch herself. Arliss seized the opportunity to swing rifle around hard, aiming at her thigh.

The blow knocked Hallie further off balance and Arliss watched her foot slide forward and up and the rest of her tumble backwards on to her butt on the dirty floor. He looked through the rifle's scope, aiming at her head and said "Don't YOU think about it." He walked to her and grabbed the shotgun from the floor without letting her out of his sights. "Hands up." he said flatly. "Up on your knees."

"What do you want?" she asked quietly, raising her arms.

"Call the others out here. All of them. I know how many of you are here too, so everybody better come out." Arliss said.

"No." she said, "I won't."

Arliss cracked Hallie on the cheek with the butt of the rifle, the force of the blow bruising her cheek and sending her to the ground again but leaving her conscious."

"DO IT!" he yelled.

Andrea, Carol and Lori walked out of the bunk room slowly, shielding the children behind them. Arliss made them sit on the couch and proceeded to bind their hands with a roll of silver duct tape he'd picked up from a workbench as he had walked through the garage. He taped their mouths, being careful not to cover their noses. When he was sure that they were secure, he took them one by one to the back of the dump truck and lifted them up and in. The last one was Sophia. Arliss put Sophia in the cab of the truck and walked around to the back.

"We're gonna go for a ride. Any of you get the idea to jump out, I'll stop and shoot the little girl. Then I'll come for the boy. Do you all hear me?" Carol started to cry, her sobs muffled by the duct tape. Andrea and Lori and Hallie shook their heads but made no sounds.

Arliss jumped in the truck and threw it in reverse and it groaned as he squeezed it back though the hole in the building he'd created. He turned and spun huge ruts through the yard and out to the drive, speeding up as he approached the heavy wooden gate. At the last second, he veered left and hit the chain link fence to the side. The fence lifted up with the force of the impact and flew back over the cab of the truck, slamming down on the top of the bed before sliding off to the ground as he accelerated. It would have crushed those in the bed if it weren't for the shape of the high sides. Arliss stepped down hard on the accelerator and floored it, making his way back to the farmhouse in record time, picking off walkers in the road, something he never would have thought of doing in his jeep.

He was happy with his afternoon's work. He had executed his plan without any hitches. He had a truck load of hostages and the Boss could use them to draw out the men if he wanted, or just kill them for revenge and then go after the men. Whatever he chose to do, Arliss thought, Boss would be real pleased.


	18. Vanishing Act

**Chapter 18: Vanishing Act**

Rick and T-Dog heard the impact at the same time as Glenn and Daryl. They were far, really far. They sprinted as fast as they could back to the camp's buildings but they were far out and the distance was great to allow them from getting there in time. Halfway through their run back, they heard another crashing sound, this one more metallic. Arliss had worked fast to tape the four women and two children and throw them in the back of the truck and speed off through the busted fence and he had been quicker than the men.

Glenn ran the fastest, followed by Daryl and Rick and then T-Dog. When they arrived, the noticed ruts in the front yard, leading to the gate. There was a gaping hole in the fence and three walkers were milling around in front of the administration building near the drive. Rick took one out with a shotgun and Daryl took care of the other two, stopping only long enough to retrieve his bolts. The admin building appeared normal from the front. The front door was locked from within, so they ran around back. The devastation that the dump truck had wrecked was unbelievable. They ran inside through the gaping hold in the wall, climbing and hopping over the wood and concrete debris. Daryl screamed for Hallie and ran to their room. It was empty. Nothing had been touched but the shotgun that they had left her with was not there. Rick searched frantically for Lori and Carl.

Glenn looked around the main room and quickly spotted Dale, laying face down under a large part of a ceiling beam from near the window. He ran to Dale, pulling the beam from him. He was still breathing, but was in a terrible amount of pain. His arms and face were cut everywhere, there was a huge lump on the top of his head and a large gash across the bottom of the leg where a nail had gouged him as the beam fell. He was in shock,obviously, and barely coherent. They picked him up gingerly and took him to a bed where they laid him down. T-Dog quickly went to work cleaning and bandaging him as they men attempted to ask him questions about what happened.

"Dale. Dale!" Rick said loudly. "Can you hear me?"

Dale answered weakly. "Yes, Rick. You have to get the girls."

"Where are they? What happened?" Rick said, panic in his voice. "Where are the girls? Where's Carl and Sophia?"

"Truck." answered Dale sleepily. "Truck, dump truck. Through the window. I...I don't know where they are." he said. "I remember..." he was struggling now. "...a truck crashing through the wall, everything falling, and that's...it. I don't know what happened. Aren't they here?" he said, grasping the situation more clearly. "Are they gone?"

"Yes, they're gone. We can't find them." Rick answered calmly. "Did you see anyone?"

"No. It happened so fast, I...I...they're gone?"

"Aww, FUCK!" Daryl yelled. "What tha' fuck? They jus' woudln't run off an' leave him here like that. Somethin's wrong." He was pacing back and forth. "Somethin's WRONG wit' this whole thing."

"Daryl's right." Glenn shook his head. The girls wouldn't just take the kids and run off. They'd leave a note or something. They'd let us know where they were going...and why."

"Yeah." T-Dog agreed. "If they were here or hiding, they'd be in here, they'd know we were back."

The men agreed to fan out and check the other buildings for any clues as to the whereabouts of the women. They found nothing but the dump truck missing. No signs of anything out of place.

Daryl was beside himself. He just kept thinking over and over how Hallie looked as she sat on the couch, how he had glared at her, how he had shaken her roughly when he confronted her about leaving the others when she found Shane's hand, how pissed he'd been at her. The guilt he felt left him feeling as badly as the sheer terror of not knowing where she was or if she was ok.

Glenn volunteered to stay behind with Dale while the other men repaired the gate as best they could. The didn't have time to deal with welder this time, so the repair job was a temporary fix to keep the walkers out for now. They took off in opposite directions down the road outside the camp's main gate each pair with a walkie talkie and armed to the teeth. The drove as far as they could, looking for a sign of the camp's big dump truck, but found nothing. The tracks ended as soon as the truck was on the main section of the paved road. They were at a loss.

XXXXX

Hallie's cheek was killing her. Arliss had whomped her good with the butt of the rifle. She couldn't raise a hand but she was sure it was quite swollen and she was going to be a have a nice bruise. She could hear Carl's muffled crying. They were inside, it smelled like a barn, the smell of old hay and manure, but it was impossible to see anything laying on her stomach in the floor of the dump truck. She tried to wriggle her hands or feet free but got nowhere. She lifted her head and could make out Carol and Lori, also laying on the floor.

The truck had stopped but the driver had not gotten out yet. Sophia. Hallie felt her stomach pitch. He's got Sophia up front with him. A minute later, she could hear the truck door open and the driver climb out. The other door opened, there were muffled sounds and the door slammed shut. The driver's head appeared over the top of the back end of the truck and he looked at the women.

"Nobody makes a sound. Don't try to get away, the walkers will get you. They are all over right outside. If I see any of you has messed with the tape, I will shoot one of the kids and then you." Arliss said in a calm voice. Inside he was almost giddy at how well the plan was going. He walked around the truck and got into the jeep parked next to it. He started it up and rolled out of the barn, then parked and came back, locking the barn door with a padlock and chains.

XXXXX

Daryl drove like a madman around cars and walkers trying to find something, anything to indicate where Hallie and the rest of the women and kids were. He stopped at every abandoned building he could, dodging walkers, but saw nothing. He continued up the desolate highway for about 20 miles and stopped dead in the middle of the road. There, blocking both lanes, parked perpendicular, was a beat-up burgundy Chrysler minivan in his path. Someone was trying to get his attention. It worked. The side of the minivan facing Daryl had a message. It had been spray-painted with child-like white lettering:

Here

Tomorrow

Noon

No guns or they all die

He got out of the truck and slammed the door, leveling his crossbow as he sprinted to the minivan. He touched the painted letters lightly. They were still tacky- fresh paint. "FUCK" Daryl yelled to no one. He kicked the side of the minivan with all of his strength. The sound of the metal bending echoed off the other cars and trees along the side of the highway. Daryl kicked the minivan until his foot hurt and his tears stopped.

XXXXX

Arliss parked the jeep back in the barn and got out to check the women. They were all still in the jeep. No one had moved a muscle. He grabbed the boy and hauled him out of the jeep by the waistband of his jeans as one of the women tried scream through her duct-taped mouth and wriggled violently. He sat the little boy up and climbed back up on the bumper of the truck to address the women.

"Now, here's the deal. I'm taking him with me. As long as you're quiet and all there in the morning, he'll be fine. You try to get loose, he's walker food and you can listen to him scream right outside that door." he said pointing in the direction of the large double doors. He jumped down and picked up Carl and walked to an old sedan parked near the back of the barn. He lifted the trunk and put Carl in. "You'll be ok, kid. Just keep quiet. You're really safer here than in that truck." he said and slammed the trunk, leaving Carl terrified, in total darkness.

XXXXX

Boss walked down the stairs. He was feeling rough- sweaty and cold at the same time. He was out of all of the good stuff, the oxy and vicodin, and had to try to go with just the liquor that Arliss could find him. Mostly whiskey, burbon, some tequila, warm beer. God he hated warm beer. He had heard Arliss come back and he wanted to give him a piece of his mind. He was supposed to have been back as soon as he was sure they'd found the cop's hand but he didn't come back until now. Not that he was worried about the Arliss at all, it was just that he was pissed off he hadn't done what he had been told.

"Where the FUCK have YOU BEEN?" Boss bellowed.

"Working." Arliss answered boldly. "They found the it right where you said to put it."

"Why the hell didn't ya' come back like I told ya' to, when I told ya' to?" he yelled again, his face getting redder.

"Was watching them, seeing what they were doing. They were scared, Boss, really scared. You should have heard them women screaming and a hollerin', like they found the whole darn body. I think one of the guys even screamed." Arliss had practiced his story in the dump truck on the way back.

"Good boy." Boss said. "We'll lay low for a few days and then try something else that will be just as scary." he licked his lips. "Gotta drag this out and torture them." he said with a cruelty to his voice that Arliss had heard only when he was talking about the group. "We got any more of my pills? You find anything anywhere like that? Damn it, Arliss, I need them bad." Boss asked Arliss.

"No sir," Arliss answered. "But why don't you go upstairs and have a few more drinks and I'll see what I can find around here. I need to get dinner anyway."

XXXXXXX

Hallie heard the bald dump truck driver unlock the padlock and walk to the back of the truck. He had a flashlight, as now it was dark. He reached in and grabbed her thigh. His hands were rough on her skin and she tried to pull away from him, only to have him smack her hard. He pulled her by the legs and then picked her up and over the truck, standing her upright on the barn floor as he climbed down. He took a knife from a sheath on his belt and Hallie's mind instantly started to shut down. All she could think of was what she'd gone through with Lloyd's cruelty. Tears welled up in her eyes and began to run down her cheeks to the duct tape that covered her mouth. She shook her head and looked at his eyes as he stood up, pleading with out wirds.

"Walk." he said flatly.

Hallie and Arliss walked out of the barn and through the high grass of what used to be the back yard, to the back porch of the house. She almost tripped going up the stairs, but Arliss caught her with his hand and jerked her upright. He marched her into the kitchen, through a long hall and into the living room. She could see in the dim light as she went through the kitchen, that there were two dirty plates on the table. God, she thought, please no, she prayed.

Arliss pushed her down on the couch roughly. She sat there in the middle of the couch, hands bound in front of her and mouth covered with duct-tape. She glanced around the room briefly and could see that it was very messy, liquor bottles on the coffee table and end tables, empty prescription and pill bottles and beer cans, cigarette butts ground into the raggedy carpet.

"Boss?" Arliss called from the bottom of the steps. "Can you come down here a minute? I think I got something you might like to see." he said.

"What the fuck?" a voice growled from the top of the stairs. "God Damn it, Arliss. What do you want?"

"Please come down here, I think you're going to like it." Arliss coaxed.

Hallie heard the sounds of heavy boots on the steps, coming down slowly, sometimes pausing after a couple steps. A large man walked slowly into the living room, most of the bottle of bourbon in his hand was gone. He was dressed in a plaid shirt, gray pants and work boots. His face was pale and his blue eyes blood-shot. He looked at the couch and rubbed his eyes.

"What the fuck?" he said. "Arliss? What is she doin' here?" he asked. "Where did you get HER?"

"She's the redhead from camp. I thought you'd like her. You said you always wanted to try a redhead, you know, because ou said they taste different." Arliss explained.

Hallie winced at the last part. The man took a couple more staggering steps toward her. She could smell the bourbon on his breath. She looked at his right arm and followed it down to where a hand should have been. There was a piece of leather with holes all around the edge, making a sort of drawstring cap for the stump. She looked into his eyes as he got closer. Blue. Clear blue. Familiar. His hair had been blonde at one time, from what she could tell. She looked at the angular jaw, the broad shoulders. Her heart was pounding.

"Well, hello, Darlin'!" he said, half plopping down, half falling, next to her on the couch. He put his hand on her thigh and squeezed. "Tell me, if I take off that tape, will you promise not to scream. I don't like women to scream...at least not 'less they're screaming my name." he leered.

Hallie stomach lurched. She looked at him and shook her head quickly. He reached to her mouth and pulled at a corner of the tape. When he got a grip, he grinned at her and ripped the tape off as quickly as he could, causing Hallie to gasp, tears rolling down her eyes as her lips and cheeks continued to sting and burn. She found it hard to breathe now.

"Baby Doll, ain'tcha gonna' tell me yer name?" he leaned in close to her face. "Ain'tcha gonna even say hullo?"

"Hello Merle." she said slowly and quietly.

The large man did a double-take and looked at her closely. He studied her up and down and shook his head. She could tell he was very drunk. "How the FUCK do you know MY name?" he was even closer now.

"You have your mother's eyes." Hallie said.


	19. The Mad Man and the Bad Man

**Thanks for your patience, I know I've left y'all hanging but it was not intentional, trust me. Please Read and Review...and no, you know I don't own or have any claims to any of the WD characters or etc... if I did, I'd be in Atlanta right now, trying to get Norman Reedus on my casting couch (after he'd been to Wardrobe and they'd Dixon'ed him up)!**

**Chapter 19: The Mad Man and the Bad Man**

Merle's blue eyes turned cold and he raised his hand, striking Hallie across the mouth hard. Her lip split and instantly began to puff up.

"Don't you EVER mention ma' Momma' a 'gin'!" he bellowed. "I'm a' ask ya' one more time, then I'm a' gonna' get real mean. How the FUCK do YOU know ma' name?"

"I know Daryl." she said, trying to wipe off her now-bloody lip with her hands still bound and looking him straight in the eyes. "I know your brother."

"Well, how-dee!" he yelled sarcastically and smacked his thigh with his hand. "How about that! You knew my fuckin' punk-ass little brother!"

"Yes." Hallie said quietly.

Merle grabbed her chin with his hand harshly and pulled her closer still. "How the fuck did you know that good-fer-nuthin', ungrateful little shit?" he snarled. Merle's breath was foul, his eyes were yellow and watery, his skin was pitted and rough. Hallie could smell that it'd been quite a while since Merle had seen the business end of a bar of soap, not to mention a stick of Right Guard. Merle Dixon was foul all over.

"He...we...I'm..." she stammered, quite at a loss to describe their relationship. "Fuck, Merle," she sighed, looking straight into his eyes again. "I guess technically he's my boyfriend."

"WAS your boyfriend." Merle insisted.

"Well, I'm hoping he still is. He's kinda' pissed off at me right now."

"Now?" Merle said, disbelievingly? "Now? He's alive? He's still with the group?"

"Well, yeah...why wouldn't he be?" Hallie was confused.

"I'm not buyin' it, Little Lady." he squinted and looked at Hallie, giving her a once over that made her skin crawl. "Not buyin' it at all. I think yer' lyin' to keep me from havin' a lil' fun wit'cha. You want ta' convince me you're his woman, how many tattoos he got?"

Hallie closed her eyes to remember Daryl's body. She missed the feeling of him against her skin, missed his scent, his calloused fingers on her. "Four." she said. "A little star near his thumb, two little ghosts on the outside of his shoulder and..."

"And?" Merle prodded her.

"A name."

"Where?"

Hallie raised both hands and touched her chest as best as she could. "Here." she said. She breathed in slowly and held her breath as she said it, bracing for another smack. "He has your mother's name tattooed over his heart. Norma."

Merle sat back against the tattered sofa suddenly and turned almost white.

"Fuck, you AIN'T lyin,' are ya'?" he said, picking up an open bottle of whiskey off the coffee table and nearly draining it of it's contents. He sat the bottle between his knees. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he let out a howling laugh. "Well, the little fucker's not only still alive, he's here...and he's finally got a hot piece of ass."

Merle stood up, wobbling. "Come on, Lil' Lady." he said, slurring his words noticeably. "I'm gotta get ta' bed."

Hallie felt a churning in her stomach. Merle fumbled with the used duct tape that had been laying on the coffee table. "No, Merle, please. You don't have to do this." she pleaded.

"Do whut?" he said sleepily. "You're coming with me so I can keep an eye on ya." he steadied his balance on the back of the couch with his one hand. "Whoa, shit." he said as he tried again, this time successfully, to put the tape back over Hallie's mouth. "Le'ss go." he said, hoisting her up, grabbing her by the tape that bound her wrists and pulling her up. Merle pushed her in front of him and put his hand flat on her back. "Upstairs." he prodded.

Merle marched Hallie down the hall and up the stairway to the second floor, stopping at the large walk-in linen closet at the top of the stairway. "Yer ass isss goin' in here fer' tha' night." he slurred, as he shoved her, falling, into the bottom of a large built-in cabinet full of old blankets, towels, and sheets. Hallie cracked the side of her forehead on a shelf as she fell forward. He slammed the door behind her and she heard a key pull out of the lock. "Nighty-night, Princess." he called as he patted the door, half-falling against it. "We'll get ta' know each other s'more tomorrow, I promise."

XXXXX

Daryl's truck, with Daryl and Glenn, and Rick's jeep, with Rick and T-Dog, moved slowly down the road outside the camp, towards the spot where the minivan sat. Despite the warning, they were loaded for bare in the weapons department. They had hidden them in every inconspicuous place in the vehicles that they could. Daryl also tucked his favorite hunting knife into his work boot, under this pants leg. They reached the minivan at a little before noon to find Arliss there waiting, with Carl standing like a shield in front of him, hands and feet bound and mouth covered with duct tape, .a .40 cal. Ruger pointed at his temple. Arliss barked at the men, ordering them to exit their vehicles with their hands up. Rick was frantic at the sight of his son with a gun to his head but all four men complied to insure Carl's safety.

Arliss demanded that Glenn step forward. He kicked a set of handcuffs at him and ordered that he cuff Rick's hands behind him. He then threw Glenn anther set of cuffs, one for T-Dog. Arliss instructed Glenn to cuff Daryl and to cover all their mouths with duct tape, as well. When the three were finished, Arliss carefully walked over to Glenn, handcuffed his hands and pointed the Ruger at his leg.

"Just want to show you all I mean business." he said, pulling the trigger. Glenn screamed in pain and fell to the ground, the bullet going through the fleshy part of his leg at his calf. Arliss wrapped a long piece of tape around Glenn's bleeding calf and placed another shorter piece on his mouth. He hauled Carl up into the passenger seat and then assisted Rick, Daryl and T-Dog to the back of the jeep and with more handcuffs, he looped theirs together to the rollbar, standing them upright, hands behind them, facing the back of the jeep. He tumped Glenn in the floor of the back, having some small mercy on him, as Glenn writhed in pain from the gunshot wound.

Arliss took off down the road towards the barn in a hurry. Upon arrival, he parked the jeep far enough from the dump truck that the men were not aware the women were there. He moved Carl back to the bed of the truck and removed Daryl from the jeep. Daryl struggled and attempted to kick and get away, but Arliss aimed the .45 at him and said flatly. "Remember what I did to the Chinaman? I got no qualms about shooting you and telling Boss you got eaten by a walker. Don't really want to', but I will if'n I have to." Daryl stopped struggling. "Walk." Arliss said. He pointed the gun at Daryl's back as they turned towards a corner and advanced to a large trunk.

Arliss walked to the large black steamer trunk and flipped open the lid with his foot. "Inside." he barked at Daryl. Daryl shook his head. "Your choice" Arliss said, sighting in the Ruger. Daryl took a small step forward. Arliss motioned with the gun towards the trunk and Daryl carefully stepped in. Daryl could see that each end of the trunk had an air hole the width of a soda can drilled into it. Well, at least I won't suffocate, thought Daryl. Arliss pushed down on Daryl's head as he shut the trunk and flipped the latch down. Daryl was struck with an immediate flood of emotion-fear, hatred...and overwhelming rage.

XXXXXXX

"Merle Dixon, that was a rotten fucking thing to do" Hallie said, as Merle hauled her out of the linen closet. Her back and neck ached and her arms and hands were numb from sleeping bent up where she fell on the pile of linens on the floor of the closet. "No food, no water, no place to piss. That is no God-damned way to treat a lady!" she yelled, looking straight into his bloodshot eyes as he stood her upright in front of him.

"Prob'ly not. But at least ya' were safe in there. Arliss ain't exactly thinkin' straight lately. He's got a hard-on for somethin' an' I got no clue what it 'tis. But damn if that boy didn't lie to me about Daryl. He said he wasn't with your group. Said he'd never seen him a 'tall."

Merle lead Hallie back to the bedroom and pushed her down on the bed, catching her by the wrists with his hand before she fell all the way backwards. He steadied her to a seating position.

"Easy there girlie." he said, softly, noticing her tense considerably. "Speaking a' hard-ons..." he said with a gleam in his eye. "let's talk some more about you an' my baby brother."

Hallie looked blankly at Merle, cocking her head slightly sideways. "What, you want to know what my intentions are?"

"Yeah." he chuckled. ""Do you love him?"

Hallie didn't even hesitate. "Absolutely." she said. "Ass over teacups. He's the only reason I'm sitting here talking to you. But even if he hadn't saved my life, I would love him just as much."

"Well, now, that sounds like a tale ya' need ta' tell me." Merle said.

Hallie began to recount the story of how she came to be in the jail, leaving out the parts that were the most painful and private, how she saw Daryl, how he brought her back to camp, how he went back and make sure that Lloyd and Emerick were taken care of, and how their relationship had grown.

"Damn." Merle said quietly when she was finished. "That boy's in love." he shook his head slowly. "Has he told you?"

"Not often. You know Daryl. Words are hard for him sometimes, but he's said it...and he shows it in a lot of ways."

"Lady, if you can get Daryl Dixon to say it out loud just once, ya' must be sumpthin'." Merle looked at her seriously. "You gonna stay with him?'

"If he'll have me-as long as I possibly can." she said. "Merle, I gotta ask you something now."

"Fair 'nuff."

"Why didn't you come back to camp? Try to find Daryl after..." she hesitated not knowing how to say it.

"What, come crawling back after they left me ta' die? Fuck no, that was NOT happenin'!" he snorted. "I had ta' fuckin' cut off ma' hand - ma' own hand - ta' get outta there. Ya' think I'd really come back ta' the assholes that did that ta' me?" She'd hit a nerve and he reacted big time.

"Good point." she said, looking down at her feet.

"Why didn't Daryl come lookin' for ME?" he suddenly leaped to his feet, bellowing. "Ma' own kin jus' abandoned me at ma' God-damned hour a need."

"Sweetie, he did." Hallie was surprised she used a term of endearment, but this was Daryl's brother and there was something very sad and lost about him. Hallie almost felt sorry for him. Almost. "He and the others came back the next morning to get you, but you were gone. They followed your trail but lost you after you broke out the window and left that department store. Daryl said that's where your trail went cold. He was heartbroken. He still is."

"Gotta damn funny way of showin' it." Merle was very angry. His eyes were red and almost, Hallie thought, looked as if he were starting to well up.

"Merle, please. Daryl was devastated when he couldn't find you and it's really hard for him to talk about it, even to me. Whenever they go into someplace new, he has high hopes of finding you alive and ok and when he comes back, there's a lot of sadness and anger because he can't find you. You should have seen his face when...when..." Hallie gulped when it hit her full on that this is the man who was involved in Shane's disappearance and here she was, sitting here on a bed having a somewhat civil conversation with a madman. "You should have seen how happy and relieved he was when he realized that you were still alive and were somewhere close. He was so...happy."

Merle was suddenly silent. "Then why didn't he find me?"

"It wasn't for lack of trying, Merle. Really. "

"Gotta' hard time believin' that. That boy's a natural hunter. I seen him track a buck fer' a week. Besides-why ain't he looking fer' you now?"

"I would hope that he is. The guys were all out in the woods looking for Shane when Arliss left the..." Hallie gulped and said it out loud. "When Arliss left the hand and I found it."

Merle looked quizzical. "Where'd that prick Shane go off ta'? He fin'ly go off tha' deep end?"

"He's missing. He turned up missing days before Arliss left the..." Hallie was confused. "Merle, did you tell Arliss to kidnap Shane and cut off his hand to get back at them for leaving you?"

Merle stood up suddenly and put both hands roughly on Hallie's shoulders. "No. I did not. I most certainly did not. " he said leaning in close enough for her to smell his breath. "I told him to kill that new guy sheriff and cut off his hand- whass'is name - Rick Grimes. He's tha' one who got tha' idea to handcuff me 'n leave me there. Then I told him ta' take care of that fucking key-droppin' nig-"

"Fuck!" Hallie interrupted. "Arliss took Shane, not Rick!" she yelled. "How could you do that? How could you, Merle? Just have him kill somebody like that?"

Merle spat on the floor next to the bed. He held up his stump in front of Hallie's face. "Payback's a bitch." he said with sheer hatred in his voice.


	20. Payback

**Please-I live for your reviews...seriously!**

**Chapter 20: Payback**

"Then what do you plan to do with the women and kids?" Hallie said defiantly. "What kind of payback do you and Arliss have in store for us now?"

"You ain't involved. You're ma' brother's woman. THEY kin' just sit back an' watch." Merle sat down again and mused. "What da' they call it? Oh yeah, maybe...maybe they kin' be collateral damage."

"So you're just going to leave them tied up in the barn? Scared to death? What about Carl and Sophia, Merle? They're just kids. They never did anything to you."

"Huh? Barn? What're ya' on about?"

"Merle, Arliss has Andrea and Carol and Lori and the kids in the barn, tied up in the back of the big dump truck from the camp. He brought us all here. Fucksakes, Merle, he pointed a gun at Sophia's head so we'd all do what he said." Hallie voice got higher and tighter as she detailed what Arliss had done. "They've been there since yesterday!"

"Holy fuck." Merle said calmly standing. "Boy's gone renegade. This ain't what I tol' him to do at all." He pulled Hallie up to standing as well. "Come on. We gotta see what that crazy fucker's up ta' before this gits entirely out a' hand." He pushed her towards the stairs, grabbing the double-barreled shotgun that he kept at the front door.

XXXXXX

While Merle and Hallie talked, Arliss had been busy. One by one he brought Rick, T-Dog and a limping Glenn up to the front porch of the house and handcuffed them to the iron-pipe railing along the edge. They were still handcuffed behind their backs and had duct tape on their mouths. They struggled and kicked at Arliss, who just laughed at their frustration.

Hallie and Merle hit the living room door about the same time Arliss opened it up and was getting ready to yell for Merle to come down. Hallie was still in front of Merle and her hands were still bound with duct-tape.

"Arliss, what the FUCK have ya' gone n' done now?" Merle yelled, as he and Hallie walked outside. "I told ya' ta' take out Grimes. Ya' got the wrong fucking cop, ya' moron. I told ya' the tall one. The TALL one. Ya' stupid backwoods good-fer-nuthin' idiot. Ya' fucked this up six ways from Sunday. I shoulda' never trusted ya' ta' pull this off by yerself.

"But...you said the cop. Boss, you said the cop." Arliss stammered. "I took the cop. I did what you said. " The bald man was now bewildered. "Look, look what I did for you. Now you can get even with them. Watch." Arliss jumped off the porch and ran to the white box van that was parked in front of the porch. He hammered on the side of the van with his fist and Hallie and Merle could hear movement, bumps and scrapes, from inside. "Walkers!" Arliss called. "And wait until you see this!" he called, running towards the barn.

"Merle, he's lost it. What the fuck is he up to?" Hallie said quietly. She turned to meet Rick's eyes. "Where's the key?" she mouthed.

Rick shook his head and looked down at his waist, trying to show her with his eyes as best he could with his hands cuffed behind him, that Arliss had the key in his pants pocket. It took a second and she put her bound hands on the side of her hip. "Pocket?" she mouthed again. Rick nodded once more to let her know she was correct.

The men and Hallie heard an engine start up and saw the dump truck back slowly out of the barn, make a circle in the yard and back up towards the porch. It stopped short next to the white van and Arliss put it in park. There was another mechanical sound and they watched as the bed of the dump truck slowly started to rise. Arliss was dumping it's contents into the yard. The back slowly lifted and Andrea, Carol, Sophia, Lori and Carl spilled out onto the ground, their cries and screams still muffled by the duct tape on their mouths. Hallie screamed and Merle shot her a look of warning.

"See?" Arliss jumped out of the truck and walked up to the porch railing. He looked up at Merle and Hallie. See what I did for you? I killed the cop. I scared the rest of them by leaving them a little present, just like you said to do. I brought you a redhead. Now you get to play with the rest of them and do whatever you want. I even brought you their women and kids as extra..." he thought about the word he was looking for. "...leverage." Arliss was grinning from ear to ear. "Then, Boss," he laughed, "when you're all done, I got one last surprise for you and I know you're gonna love it."

XXXXXX

Daryl opened his eyes. It wasn't completely dark in the trunk, but it was cramped as hell and all of his muscles ached. Plus, the trunk smelled like old musty books. Daryl almost wished that the idiot had left him in handcuffs. Those he could get out of in a slick minute by dislocating his double-jointed thumb. He guessed that if he was handcuffed from behind, he wouldn't be able to lay flat in the trunk. He wiggled his hands down as far as he could but it was very hard to reach the knife that he'd tucked into his boot.

He struggled and maneuvered until he was able to bend at the waist and pull his leg up at the same time to reach his calf. He had to work the knife up through the fabric of his pants and then push it below the hem of the pants leg. He used his foot to push the knife up to his fingers inch by inch. It took more than a few minutes but he was able to finally reach the knife with his fingertips. Daryl brought the knife to his stomach and then exchanged hands, putting it in his left hand. He tried to put the knife between the lid and the side of the trunk and tried to pry upwards. The trunk side didn't budge, but the rim of the lid bent slightly upwards. Daryl worked and worked to free himself from the trunk.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Arliss, I should shoot ya' myself. Right here. Ya' gotta be tha' dumbest fucker I know. You RE-tard!" Merle yelled, walking down the stairs to the porch. "I didn't tell ya' ta' do any of this!" he continued.

Arliss looked down, his face struggling to hid the disappointment. He thought Boss would like the surprise. All the talked about in the past was getting even, getting revenge, getting back at the people who hurt him, who made him cut off his own hand.

"I...I..." Arliss stammered. "I thought this was what you wanted- to hurt them like they hurt you. I did this for you. I...I thought...

"No, ya' fuckin' didn't." Merle continued to yell and scream at Arliss. "Ya' fuckin' didn't think a' t'all. Yer' too stupid ta' think. That's why yer' with me. Yer' too dumb ta' make it on yer' own."

Arliss' heart was breaking...and his anger was rising. It wasn't fair. He did this all for Boss. To make him happy. To make Boss see that he needed to keep him around. Arliss' blood began to pound in his ears as Merle kept up his tirade. He began to see white spots out of the corner of his eyes. He had to do something. Boss was wrong. He wasn't stupid. Arliss knew he was smart. Very smart. He just had to make Boss see it, but by that time, the anger and humiliation had overtaken him.

Arliss turned around and took a step towards Merle, who was advancing towards him. He raised his hand as Merle came into range, striking him across the jaw and sending him to the ground. The shotgun Merle had in his left hand crashed to the ground as well. Merle was a big man, but Arliss was just as tall and had more strength.

XXXX

Daryl rounded the barn in time to see Merle go down. He started running towards the two men. Hallie's heart jumped when she saw him. She had been forcing herself not to think of him, knowing that he could hold his own and he would be ok, knowing that she had to keep her wits about her and not piss off Merle. Daryl was on a dead run now, straight towards Arliss. He lowered his head and tackled him, butting his head into Arliss' stomach, sending the two flying.

They struggled, rolling around on the ground. Daryl spotted the shotgun about ten feet from where they landed and made a leap towards it. Arliss jumped to his feet and sprung to the truck, throwing the door upwards to reveal it's contents. Three walkers fell out as the door rolled upwards and Arliss jumped to the side to get out of their line of sight.

Daryl rolled over, grabbing the shotgun and aiming towards the truck. He looked at the walkers that Arliss had loosed. Two were advancing fast on Merle, who had started to turn and run. One was lurching in his direction, just feet from him. Daryl fired one round at the one closest to his brother. It fell with a thud. The other continued towards Merle, who was struggling to keep from it's grasp. Daryl fired the second slug and hit the walker in the back of the head, splattering everything within six feet with brains and bone fragments.

Daryl turned the butt of the gun to the walker that was just feet from him. He whirled and hit the walker across the face with gun, shattering it's face and skull. It stumbled and fell to it's knees, clawing at Daryl, who jumped backwards just out of it's grasp. He brought the butt of the gun down on the walker's skull again.

Arliss rounded the side of the truck where he'd been hiding to stay out of view of the walkers and watch what was unfolding in front of him. He pulled a hunting rifle from the seat of the box van and was moving fast towards Merle, with the weapon drawn. "You ruined it!" he screamed. "I had it all planned for you. You Asshole. I planned it all out. You ruined your surprise!" Daryl tossed the empty shotgun aside and reached down . He pulled the knife from his boot and threw. It landed in Arliss' back a split second after they heard the rifle shot. Arliss fell forward at the same time as Merle. They landed facing each other, only a few feet apart.

"Merle" Daryl screamed and ran to his brother. He sank to his knees, picking him up and cradling him in his arms. "Merle. No. No!" The blood from Merle's stomach was turning his shirt a dark reddish black.

"Fuck." Merle said, looking down to his stomach. "Crazy motherfucker shot me. Daryl. I didn't...this..." Merle stiffened as blood began to seep from the corner of his mouth. "Daryl..." he uttered.

Daryl laid his brother down softly and turned away from the others. No one said anything for a matter of minutes. He stood up and bent over, pulling the knife from Arliss' back. He flipped him over with his foot and plunged the knife into Arliss' heart, more for closure than for necessity. Daryl pulled the knife out and wiped it on Arliss' work shirt. He reached into Arliss' pocket and pulled out a small metal ring with the handcuff keys on it.

Daryl took the porch steps in twos and stopped long enough to unlock Rick's hand cuffs. He handed the keys to Rick and walked quickly o Hallie. Taking the still-bloody knife, he cut through Hallie's taped hands and pulled her to him. Hallie had difficulty breathing he was holding her so tightly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stroked his hair.

"I'm so sorry. Baby, I'm so sorry." she murmured.

Rick unlocked T-Dog and Glenn's cuffs and then took Daryl's knife gently from this hand and made his way to Lori and Carl, Andrea, Carol and Sophia, cutting them free. He returned to the porch with the hunting knife.

"Daryl," he said quietly. "There's something you have to see." Rick nodded towards Arliss and Merle's lifeless bodies.

Daryl followed Rick off the porch and into the yard. The stood over Merle's body for a few minutes and Daryl walked over to Arliss, picked up the hunting rifle from the ground next to him, and returned to Merle. He aimed the gun at Merle's head, turned his own head away, and pulled the trigger. He looked up at the porch, meeting Hallie's eyes, and turned, walking quickly and silently towards the road, wiping the tears with the back of his hand.


	21. Recovery and Repair

Chapter 21: Recovery and Repair

They buried Shane in the flower garden of the farm house. The group decided that there was no reason to take him back to the camp and even though the garden had become somewhat overgrown, there were still enough flowers to make it a beautiful, peaceful setting. Hallie thought that Shane deserved some peace, after everything was said and done.

The men took Merle's body and added it to the three walkers and burned them out back behind the barn. They also disposed of Arliss in the same manner, even though he was not infected. No one wanted to take a chance, given how close he had been to the walkers he'd let loose. The activity from earlier and the smell and smoke from the burning bodies had generated more interest from passing walkers and they had to be somewhat cautious now.

Glenn's wound was in much better shape than they had anticipated. It was a clean shot that went through the back of his calf, not severing the bone or damaging much of the muscle tissue itself. He hurt like hell but the duct tape had actually served to keep it clean and stop much of the bleeding. They were able to clean and stitch the wound up, leaving a small drainage opening on one side, and bandage it securely making Glenn able to hobble around on a crutch that Carol had discovered in the cellar.

"Dude, that's hot." Hallie teased him.

"It doesn't feel so hot!" Glenn protested. He winced as he carefully rubbed it through the bandage. "It feels like shit."

"Just wait. It'll get you laid for sure. You know, chicks dig scars!" she grinned, giving him a peck on the cheek. "You wait and see. Some lucky girl is going to get to see firsthand what you can REALLY deliver!"

"I'm going to hold you to that!' he said. "Well, not you personally, Daryl would kill me, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know whatcha' Sweetie. But we gotta get you a woman...and soon!"

The group went through the house carefully, combing every nook and cranny they could for anything of use. When they were through, they loaded up the truck and jeep, and put all of the larger items in the bed of the dump truck. Rick handed Hallie the keys to Daryl's truck and asked if she thought she could drive it.

"Sure. It drives like any other truck." she smiled. "This is a Dodge. He probably won't care. Now, if it was his old Ford, he'd kick my ass AND yours for even thinking about letting a woman drive it!"

"I'll never tell." Rick winked. "I'm sure if we catch up to him, he'll be glad to take over. Especially if he sees you sittin' in it."

"Thanks. But don't look for him back for a few days." Hallie said, kicking a clod of dirt under the truck.

XXXXXXX

The return to the camp was bittersweet, at best. Dale recovered quickly from his injuries, the worst being a nasty concussion caused by the falling debris. Andrea babied him and doted on his every need, which caused the other women to tease her about their growing relationship. Hallie thought on more than one occasion that it was nice they were laying off her and Daryl. In fact, they didn't much mention Daryl when Hallie was around. It was too difficult for Hallie to deal with and they knew it.

The first week back, the group spent focusing on repairing the damage that Arliss had caused with the dump truck, both on fence-line and the back wall of the admin building. There were several instances of walkers inside the camp, so doors were kept locked and no one went outside without a weapon. Once the fence was repaired, it became more of a matter of cleaning up those that were trapped inside. Rick and T-Dog patrolled on a daily basis, occasionally bringing back rabbits or squirrels for meat. Life began to fall into a routine.

For Hallie, the day's routine was simple. Do what you have to do to get by while it was light out. Cry yourself to sleep when the dark came. Repeat. Life was moving on and after the third week, she came to the realization that for her, life more than likely no longer included Daryl Dixon. She was heartbroken beyond consolation. Every night she dreamed of waking up in the dark laying next to him, hearing him snore, covers thrown off, his legs tangled in hers, his one arm laying across her stomach. She couldn't bear to think about what had happened to him. Wondering. Walkers, others, or that he had just left because he no longer loved her.

XXXXXXX

Weeks later, Hallie was in the mess hall stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce when she felt the breeze from the door open. It was a crisp fall morning and the air was cool and fresh. She put the spoon down and leaned around the corner of the kitchen door. Looking into the main part of the mess hall, she saw nothing. No one was standing there, no one had come in. She shrugged, figuring it was one of the kids opening the door.

She returned to her work and studied the boxes of pasta lined up before her, trying to remember what they had recently, what was a favorite, what fed the most people. She felt the breeze again, this time strong enough to make the hair on her arms stand up slightly. She walked to the doorway and froze.

XXXXX

Daryl hesitated at the door a second time, his hand resting on the handle. He had been gone almost six weeks. He knew what lay ahead of him and he was not sure that the damage done to their relationship could be repaired. He swung the door open again and this time, he stepped inside. Hallie rounded the corner from the kitchen. They both stopped in their tracks. Daryl just stared when he saw her.

She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her dark red hair was pulled back in a thick pony tail. She had on a long cable-knit sweater and a long blue flowered skirt over a pair of leggings and her hiking boots. Over her sweater she wore a yellow and white striped apron which completely covered her. There were spots of orange-red on the apron. She had a wooden spoon in her hand. Her cheeks flushed a bit and her dark green eyes were as big as saucers. When they met his, she blinked a couple times and turned back towards the kitchen, saying nothing.

Daryl's heart sank. Fuck, he thought to himself. I blew it. I fuckin' blew it. She fuckin' hates me. He laid the crossbow down on one of the tables and walked slowly into the kitchen.

"Hal?" he said. "Baby?" he said softly. "Hallie?"

She turned from the stove and looked at him. "Seriously? Baby? " she shouted, her eyes turning dark with anger. "Get the fuck out of my sight." she yelled, lobbing the sauce-covered spoon at him. It hit the wall next to his head and clattered to the floor, splattering tomato sauce all over Daryl and the wall.

"What the FUCK, Woman?" he yelled back, wiping spots of sauce off his cheek.

"WHAT THE FUCK? WOMAN?" Hallie was just as surprised as her outburst as Daryl was. "How dare you! I am obviously NOT your woman, whoa, no, not by a long shot. Six fucking weeks? Get out of my sight, Daryl Dixon. I don't want to see you or talk to you." she screamed. Liar. She wanted both. Desperately. She was shaking inside and out, mostly from a combination of relief and sheer joy to see him, but also from straight-out anger.

"I ain't goin' nowhere." he said, taking a step towards her. Daryl had not seen her like this. Her eyes were filled with emotion and it was all being directed towards him at the moment...and he knew he deserved it.

"I said, get OUT!" she said, whipping off her apron and wadding it into a ball, tossing it hard at his chest.

"No." he said quietly, taking another step as he deflected the apron to the floor. At some point, Daryl thought, there was a strong possibility that she might pick actually up the stock-pot full of sauce and throw it on him.

Andrea came flying into the mess hall through the main door. "Hallie! Hallie! He's back! Daryl's back. He's brought a whole truck of stuff..." The blonde was running full speed towards the kitchen and when she saw Daryl and Hallie face to face through the door, she literally skidded to a stop. "Oh! Oh..." she said, turning on her heel. "I'll leave you two alone then." Andrea jogged to the door and exited the mess hall as quickly as she had entered.

Hallie ignored Andrea altogether and continued to glare at Daryl. He took another step. They were just a few feet apart now. Hallie could smell his scent. Wood and leather and sweat and smoke. He needed a bath. Bad. She looked at him closer. His beard was full now, scraggly. His hair was shaggy. His blue eyes were looking straight into hers, the beautiful brilliant deep blue she missed so much. The clothes he was wearing were filthy and he was mud from about the knees down. In a word, he was irresistable. She closed her eyes and steadied herself on the handle of the oven behind her. "Daryl. Please. I can't do this. Just go. " she said.

"What can't you do?" he said softly. Another step forward. Almost within reach.

"You." she sniffed. "I can't do THIS. I can't get used to you and then you disappear for weeks and now you come back and all I'll worry about is when the next time you decide to take off again will be. My heart..." she was sobbing now. "My heart can't take losing you again."

"Baby" he said, reaching out as he took another step. "You didn't lose me."

Hallie stiffened in his arms. "The hell if I didn't!" she shapped. "You took off. You were gone for six weeks. Six fucking weeks, Daryl. I cried myself to sleep every night. I was so fucking scared. I didn't know if you were alive or dead. You can't just do that, Daryl. You can't do that to me. You left me when I THOUGHT you would need me the most. That speaks volumes about what you really think of me. Of us." She stopped as tears welled up in her eyes again. "Why?" she gulped, her thin frame wracked by the sobs.

"I had to. I had to be by myself to sort things out. Merle's gone. Right in front of my eyes. I didn't even have time to talk to him or say goodbye. He's my only brother. He was all I had left of my family. I watched him get shot-murdered-and then I had to put a bullet in his brain myself to make sure he didn't turn Myself."

Now it was Daryl's turn to well up. "I can't deal with stuff like this. I can't show my emotions in front of people. It's hard enough to do it with you. I wasn't raised to be like that. Guys don't do that. I had to do it by myself. The only way I know how." Daryl continued. "After a while I think it was easier to stay gone than come back. I think I was...scared to face you."

"Why would you be scared to face me? Daryl, I love you. I thought you did too." Hallie leaned against his chest. "I guess I was all wrong." she snorted.

"Never." Daryl said, grabbing her and holding her at arms' length, almost causing her to stumble over his feet. "Don't ever say that. You're all I got." Daryl leaned in and pulled her to him, their faces just inches apart. He studied her eyes for any signs of what she was thinking, how she felt. He'd always been able to read her every emotion on her face.

Hallie looked into this eyes. They were shiny, teary. Hallie saw how much he was struggling to say what he wanted to, what he needed to. What she needed to hear.

"Daryl, do you love me?"

"Ya' know I do."

"Do you understand how scared I was?'

"Yes."

"Do you understand how angry I am that you couldn't share your grief with me?"

"Yes."

"Do you still want to be with me?"

"God yes." he said in a whisper.

"Then don't you ever fucking do this to me again or I'll find your skinny cracker-ass and cut your fucking dick off while you sleep. With your own God-damned knife. Then I'll put a bolt through your heart. I swear to God I will. If it's the last thing I ever do. Do you understand me?"

"Yes M'am." he looked at her from under his shaggy hair, his head down.

"Daryl Dixon, do you love me?"

"Ah already tol' ya' that. Yes. I do."

"Say it. Out loud."

"Hallie Jane McAllister, I love you. Never doubt that."

"Daryl. I have something that you're going to want." Hallie said quietly.

"Y'all have several things I want...and soon." he said, taking her chin in his hand and kissing her roughly, his hands moving down to pull up on the hem of her skirt.

"No, seriously." she said, reaching in the neck of her sweater. She pulled her hand up and revealed a metal bead chain with two dog tags. She pulled them up and over her head and handed them to Daryl. "Rick gave them to me after you left. He took them off of Merle before... He thought you'd want them."

Daryl was stunned. He was surprised that Rick would have done something like that for Merle or for him. He was also taken aback that Hallie had worn them around her neck all this time, waiting until he returned. She could have left them in his room, but she wore them next to her heart. For Merle and him. She never gave up on me, he thought. He held them in his hand, his eyes moving back and forth from the rubber-rimmed tags to hers. He had no words at this moment; the lump in his throat was preventing him from making any sound.

"You need to put those on, Baby." she said softly, curling his fingers around the dog tags with her own. "You need to honor your big brother."

Daryl nodded and slipped them over his head.

"Now." she said, with a small smile. "What did you bring me? You been gone six weeks. It better be damn good."

"Not yet." he whispered, pulling him to her again. "We got some makin' up ta' do ..." He said, lifting her up by the waist as she wrapped her legs around his and kissed his neck. "...but first I need me a good long bath."

XXXXXXX

Daryl stepped out of the bathtub and wrapped the towel around him. He padded down the short hallway to the office where he and Hallie had once shared a room. Hallie had brought him a huge plate of food and fed him while he soaked. She also made sure he'd had more than a couple of the beers. Daryl was feeling quite good. Clean and full. He was also eagerly anticipating the rest of their evening, for obvious reasons. He opened the door to their room and found it illuminated by several candles. Hallie was sitting on the bed, dressed only in one of his button-down shirts, one of the few still with sleeves. He always was turned on when she wore his clothes, especially when all she wore was a shirt. Her long dark hair was down and fell over her shoulders in waves, the candle light dancing red highlights around her face.

She looked at him and smiled slyly. "Where's my present, Dixon?" she said. "You fill up a God-damned truck with stuff and I don't get shit?"

Daryl dropped the towel and licked his lips, looking down at himself. "What, this ain't enough fer' ya'?" he grinned. The sight of her on the bed in only his shirt had made him become hard already.

"You know what I'm talking about." she shook her head.

"Baby, I didn't get ya' nothing special. Jus' a lil' somethin' I thought ya' might like. Really, 't ain't much." Daryl said as he walked over to the table and took something from his vest pocket. He tossed the small packet to her on the bed.

She looked at it as it fell beside her. "Well, thanks. At least you brought me, uhm, chocolate." she said, failing to hide her disappointment. She picked up the package and looked at it. It was an opened Snicker's Miniature wrapper, taped together at one end. "Oh, Daryl, you shouldn't have." she said in a sarcastic voice. "Did you take a bite out of it already too?" she said.

"Naw, that would be jus' rude. G'won. Open it."

"I think I'll save it for later, she said. "From the looks of it, I'm going to need to replenish my strength." she said, rolling her eyes.

"Open the fuckin' candy bar, Woman." Daryl said, walking towards her and plopping down beside her on the bed, hiding nothing.

"Whatever." she said, slitting the tape with her fingernail. She tipped the open end up and barely caught the package's contents. Into her hand tumbled a shiny gold band with engraving in the middle and beading along the edges. It was beautiful, delicate and feminine. Daryl plucked the band from her hand and turned her towards him on the bed, pulling her close.

"Ya' put this on, it never comes off. Ever." he said, picking up her left hand and holding the ring inches from her fingers. "Mine." he growled, looking into her eyes.

Hallie had tears in her eyes as Daryl slid the band onto her ring finger. She shook her head up and down. "Yours." she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him. "Forever."

The End.


End file.
